


Stumbling Forward

by nietzsche300



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Affairs, Alternate Universe, Awkward Romance, Drama, F/F, Romance, Series Rewrite, unexpected love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-07-26 21:26:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 68,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7591018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nietzsche300/pseuds/nietzsche300
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night while closing up the shop she works at, Bea stumbles over someone sitting on the steps. An embarrassing moment changes the course of her whole life. *AU* Before Bea snaps and tries to kill Harry, and before Allie meets Kaz. Ballie series re-write. (TBC fiasco fixed)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Late Night Shuffle

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, today is the day. The finale. Being where I am I have yet to see it, but I hope that I all of us can fully recover from whatever heart attack the episode induces. I decided to start an AU fic instead of going for my typical one-shot for this series. Hope you all enjoy it, and that it helps hold you over for a while. Or helps you recover lol....sigh. I will be using a few details from the show, or at least tipping my hat off to a few moments. This isn't a super light fic, but it will have lots of good, happy, hopefully sexy moments, and will not break your hearts. Promise. And no explicit violence. Cheers!

Bea swept her area in silence as her coworkers went on gossiping about their clients like they always did. It's been years since she's indulged in such things, having become a topic of discussion herself. That was right around the year that Harry got sloppy about giving her bruises in visible places, or he just stopped caring. She's always thought the latter. When there was no one that really gave a shit about her outside of Debbie, their daughter, there was little reason to be scared of the cops being called on him. She'd called them once before. One of the biggest mistakes of her life. 

“You sure you're good to lock up then, Bea?” one of her coworkers asked. The bobbed brunette was a bit younger than all of the other women and yet she'd ruled the place ever since she was hired. Her dyed blue hair was a mockery, if you asked Bea. 

“It's no problem,” Bea answered. She volunteered to close up shop at least once a week, more if she could. If she stayed long enough, Harry would be drunk and passed out by the time she got home.  
That's the best she could hope for during a bad week. It's been a bad month this go round. 

The women grabbed their things, most of them already finished packing up their gear, areas tidied up for tomorrow. Michelle, the young new girl, however, liked to leave quite a mess and tended not to take her stuff home to clean things as thoroughly as Bea herself liked to. Whether it was to pass the time or not was irrelevant, because it was part of their job really. And it was a job that didn't involve Harry, like cleaning the house, cooking, making sure the bills were paid were. The only other thing in her life that wasn't entirely tied to Harry was her relationship with Debbie. Making sure she was alright, despite the circumstances of her life. 

She hated that her daughter knew about the beatings, and that she'd walked in countless times to see the monster her father was. But most of all, that she'd seen how weak Bea was in those moments. Day after day, year after year, always getting worse and never getting better. Not for long, anyways. Is that what marriage was like? Bea wasn't sure herself. She didn't know if maybe she was living the ultimate reality of things. Romantic love an illusion. Even the women she worked with, though they weren't being physically abused at all, complained about love being shit. Usually just a few weeks after gushing about some idiot. 

As she mopped the floor she tried to come up with a plan. She didn't make enough money as a hairdresser to take care of both her and Debbie, so she'd been thinking of getting a second job. Something basic like a cashier at the local market. Though the idea of bumping into any of her coworkers or any of Harry's friends while working at the market made her uneasy. Proving she was fit to raise Debbie on her own was what really mattered though, and so far she'd only gone to the cops during the times where there was no physical evidence of abuse. Right then, while he was being sloppy, she could change that. This time she didn't want to get any sympathetic looks and lectures about going to marriage counseling, and oh but we hear he's a good guy. But each time she took a hit for evidence was a moment Deb could see what's happening, or one step closer to Bea losing it and – 

The last time he hit her, her eyes had suddenly found the knives on the counter. She'd just washed them, dried them, and set them aside. All the while Harry had been complaining about the steak being dry. About her attempts to kill him and Debbie with her horrible cooking. She couldn't even do that right anymore, he'd said, and then whack. Right across the face. Her eyes were on the knives. She'd show him what it looked like when she tried to kill him, over and over, the blade diving in. Growing red.

The floor was clean, windows locked, and she had her kit on her arm. For a moment she let herself imagine it was her kitchen she'd just cleaned, all evidence gone, but she shook off the image. She was going to do things right. After flipping the lights, she walked through the door expecting to close the it and lock it behind her, but instead she stumbles on something on the top step. She drops her bag and knocks said something to the ground, barely catching the quiet 'umph' as she stopped herself from falling completely to the ground.

“What the hell?” she asked, frowning deeply at her sprawled hair equipment. But when she realized it was a person she had kicked over and stepped on, she swallowed hard. “I'm sorry.” Times she'd made 'mistakes' at home rose to the surface, and she nearly curled into herself to prepare for impact.

But the person didn't even stand up. Didn't make any sudden movements at all. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

“It was my fault. Thought the place was empty.” Long arms slowly reached towards the ground, gently picking up the hair dryer, various sizes of scissors, a thin comb.

It was a woman, younger than she was. Her long hair poked out from the hood of the black hoodie she wore, which didn't help Bea see her face well. The woman had been eating, but the food was now on the ground next to Bea's curler and conditioner. 

“I didn't see you,” Bea said, quickly. 

“Obviously,” the woman laughed. She was still picking up Bea's items and had gotten a lot of it back in the bag by the time Bea bent over to help. “You don't look like the type to knock the shit out of someone just for kicks,” the other woman continued.

In the light of the sidewalk, Bea could only see grinning lips in the shadows of the younger woman's hood. She didn't look mad at all if that grin was any indication, hadn't turned to look at her food once. There was no impending impact, no twisted faked pleasantries followed by a quick jab to the stomach. Just the silence as they gathered everything and put it all back in Bea's bag. Once they had picked all of Bea's equipment up, Bea reached into her purse and pulled a few bills out of her wallet. 

“Ah no, don't,” the younger woman started, holding out a hand to fend Bea's away. “No worries about the food. Shouldn't've been sitting on the steps.”

“Please,” Bea said, holding out the money anyways. Yeah, she'd been saving up her tips and things to have cash for her and Debbie, but the thought of someone missing out on a meal because of her made her feel uneasy. The need to fix her fuck up was part of her years of abuse, she realized, but this woman wasn't Harry. “Take it.”

The woman pulled her hood back, letting her dirty blonde mane fall around her shoulders. It was unmanaged but full, beautiful even. Her eyes studied Bea's for a while, giving Bea enough time to notice the split lip right beneath what looked like a dark freckle. Then the blonde was reaching for the money. “Thanks.”

Bea jumped at the feeling of the blonde's hand grazing hers. If it hadn't been for the woman already holding parts of the bills, they would have been another thing Bea accidentally forced the blonde to pick up off the ground. She felt embarrassed by the woman's noticing her jumpiness. The way her blonde hair bobbed as she chuckled to herself for a moment. 

“Not gonna bite ya,” she said. 

“Of course not,” Bea laughed. “Sorry again. I've gottta...”

“Righto. Have a good one,” she said, shaking the bills for a moment. 

Bea quickly locked the door, awkwardly stepping around the blonde with a mumbled, “excuse me.” She started her walk down the sidewalk toward the employee parking on the side of the building, peeking over her shoulder once to see the woman watching her walk away with that same grin on her face. Bea turned around quickly, picking up her step a bit, then right before she turned the corner she glanced back one more time to see that the woman was sitting on the steps again. The blonde picked up the food that had been knocked to the ground, reorganized it, and took a huge bite.  
Bea felt sick to her stomach. 

 //////////

To her relief, Harry was asleep when she got home but she was not able to avoid him the next morning. Thinking he was gone because she heard the garage open and close, she headed downstairs to make Debbie a quick breakfast. Apparently it was just another time he was toying with her mentally. He was leaning against the sink when she walked into the kitchen, looking smug about his ability to fool her like he did every few months. 

“You got home late. Again.”

“Closed up the shop,” she explained, pulling a pan out of one of the lower cabinets. She watched Harry out of the corner of her eye, could see how tensely he held his shoulders.

His eyes were hard and focused. “Isn't everyone responsible for their own area?”

After walking over to the fridge and grabbing the eggs, Bea grabbed a bowl and cracked the eyes open, spilling the inner contents into a bowl to be whipped. He'd asked these questions before. “Of course, Harry. But it's better to have one person stay behind and mop the whole place than us shuffling around each other making shoe marks.”

It was true, and logical, but it felt like a long lie nonetheless. Having them all do it wouldn't be so bad, but hearing them gossip right before she went home was tiresome. Silence without any feelings of impending violence was rare. Unfortunately, once she got home the night before, the image of that young blonde woman eating the food off the ground kept reemerging. Eventually she had been able to fall asleep, but that feeling of being sick to her stomach hadn't subsided entirely by the time she had. 

“Look, you have a family.” Harry stepped up beside her as she greased the pan and poured the eggs in. “And since you make shit for money, I figure you should be a more appreciative wife.”

She scoffed. Freezing mid push of the eggs with a red spatula. 

“What was that?” he asked, hot breath penetrating through her hair into her ear. 

Her heart hammered in her chest. “Nothing,” she whispered, slowly continuing to scramble the yellow goop as it solidified. “I'll try to get Je--”

“You won't just try.” He grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn to look him in the eyes. This is how he was during his sloppy times. Bursts of anger over anything, and everything. Bruising grabs of her limbs. 

Bea stared him in the eyes, trying to hide her slight shake. He was aggravated further by the weakness he created in her, ironically. She suspected it was whatever little guilt he felt rise to the surface. Expressed as anger because he knew nothing else really, not towards her. Any other woman in his life, coworkers, Debbie, he was sweet to. Patient with. Not Bea though. He hated her, and she hated herself for ever caring about him at all. 

“Breakfast almost ready?” Debbie asked from the entryway. 

They all looked between one another for a few moments before Harry angrily released Bea's arm. He grabbed his work bag and headed for the door. “I'll pick something up,” he said, patting Debbie on the shoulder as he walked out the door. 

Debbie looked at her mom, both of them exchanging a nod as a signal that everything was okay. Bea felt a mixture of guilt at being caught in such a position, and a bit guiltier thinking about that being a bruise she could have used to report him, along with a few others. There needed to be no doubts. No need for Debbie to testify. Hard evidence was the best sort of evidence. 

“Is it cool if I stop by Ronnie's tonight, to work on a project? You come and grab me tonight?” Debbie asked, taking her place at the table. 

Bea popped some toast into the toaster, grabbed some fruit from the fridge and sat down. “No prob.”

“Cool,” Debbie said with a smile. They both knew, though the project was actually real, they were both subject to finding reasons to be out of the house until as late as possible. When the toast popped to a ready, Debbie got up to retrieve it for the both of them. 

The rest of the day was as ordinary as the start. Her scheduled clients came in, got their typical wash and cut, or with some random horrible idea to try on a look fit for someone half their age. A lot of Bea's clients were about her age or a little older, not because of her capabilities but because of the air about her. At least, that's what some of her coworkers thought. She just wasn't lively enough, vibrant enough. Where an older woman appreciated the silence and a bit of time to be heard, the younger crowd wanted high levels of entertaining interactions. Doing hair was how Bea found her calm so she didn't mind that her clients tended to be of a certain age group. Though they weren't always the best tippers when they didn't have mum and dad's cash to spend. 

Still, she made quite a bit on certain days and today had been a good one. Her coworkers and her had all done well, gotten to start to clean a bit early and do their usual bit of shop talk as they packed up their personal items. They were a bit kinder on those sorts of days. Less likely to poke fun at the horrible dye job one of their clients tried to pull off on their own. As if they hadn't themselves been the victim of a self inflicted bad dye job when they'd started. Bea just didn't understand such cattiness. Which made her feel rather old. 

The floor was mopped, Debbie had text her back letting her know she'd be ready when Bea arrived, and Bea had her things on her shoulder. She flipped the lights off and walked out the door, a slight smile at her face at having an easy day, though not helpful in terms of her building a case. Still, a day of peace was so rare. She looked the door and turned to descend the few steps to the sidewalk, but there was that blonde from the night before, standing at the end of them. 

“Hello again,” the woman said.

Bea took a small step back but remembered the door was there before her back could hit it. “Hi,” she said, eyeing the blonde suspiciously. She hesitated but walked down the steps, turning her body so it wouldn't touch the other woman's. 

“I just wanted to thank you,” the woman said, starting to walk beside Bea as she passed. “For the cash.”

That you probably didn't use for food, Bea thought, desperately trying not to look the woman in the face so maybe she'd take the hint. She thought of seeing the blonde eat off the ground, barely had to wonder what the money was probably used for, though she felt bad for speculating. The split lip could have been from some shitty asshole, but the slightly dirty clothes, the untamed hair...Bea heard stories of why it was a bad idea to give certain people cash instead of food. 

“No problem,” Bea said, lips tight. She hoped that would be the end of it, but the casual stroll beside her continued. 

“I'm Allie. Allie Novak,” the woman said, holding out her hand. Bea didn't take it. Alli laughed. “You a hairdresser at that shop? Not much of a charmer, eh. Hope the tips are alright.”

“Are you thanking me, or insulting me?” Bea asked, stomach dropping the moment the words left her lips. They'd both stopped walking and she'd somehow found herself looking at this Allie Novak, annoyed by her smile, the glint in her eye. She was teasing Bea.

Allie held her hands up in mock surrender. “You're right. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Bea turned to walk off, rounding the corner with a sigh of relief but it was let out too soon. Allie jogged to catch up to her. 

“Grab you something to eat to pay you back?” she asked.

Bea actually laughed a bit, nearly dropped the bag on her shoulder, “I'm sorry?” Who was this woman, disrupting the peaceful day she'd had? She threw the blonde a look, trying to show her that she'd rather continue on alone and the woman's pace actually slowed to a stop. Bea kept her pace steady. She walked over to the driver's side of her car. Her cheeks felt warm despite her agitation, a foreign lightness in her skull. The day had turned to strange.

“Ouch, alright then,” Allie called. “Maybe I'll come in for a cut and color then. If you think you can handle the mess.”

Bea didn't object, but she didn't confirm it being a good idea either. She got into the car, turned the key and drove by Allie with only a slight glance through her window, ignoring the small wave sent her way. Debbie's friend, and partner, home wasn't too far away from the shop which Bea felt appreciated. The encounter with Allie had left her a bit shocked. It was true that Allie could have been simply asking to repay her by buying her a late dinner, a friendly dinner, but there had been something about the way she'd asked it. That teasing, but inviting tone that she had never heard when she'd had friends before. Even close ones. They also didn't smirk at her like the blonde had. She didn't understand what had brought on such advances. Surely her mumbling and stumbling about was a repellent to the human species. 

Harry hated it. 

Debbie hopped into the car and tossed her backpack into the backseat. “Okay day, Mum?” she asked. 

Bea smiled. “It was alright. How was yours?” 

Debbie started to detail her day as Bea backed out the driveway and headed down the road. It was good to hear her daughter talk about her classes, projects, and friends. All Bea wanted was for the girl to have some sort of average teenage experience, outside the reach of Harry's reign on their house. These were the few moments they could laugh and smile at the silly things in life, encourage one another, and love one another without the fear of violence.

They were sitting at a stop light, one of those stupid ones where the timing was off by the looks of it. After a while, Bea started to look both ways, a frown above the smile on her lips. 

Bea realized then that Debbie was staring at her. “What?” 

“You just seem...I don't know,” Debbie said, looking her over. “Off.”

“Off?” Bea scoffed. 

“Yeah. I mean, okay you've had a nice day, but there's something else too. Score a new client?”

“Nah, nothing like that.” The light finally turned green. She eyed Debbie out the corner of her eye and laughed when she saw the girl staring expectantly. For a moment she thought about saying nothing at all and filing the experience away in the weird young blonde woman box that was suddenly there to be managed. The blonde shouting about coming into the shop played through her mind. “This young woman, from the shop--”

“Agh, is Michelle being a twat again?”

“Debbie,” Bea said, with a surpised expression. “Don't call her that...Even if it is true. But no, not Michelle.” She took a moment, turning onto their street slowly. “Not one you've met. She was, I don't know,” she said, thinking about her first encounter with Allie and the one from earlier that night. That stupid grin, wild youth. “She was just weird.”

When she pulled into the garage and reached back to grab her stuff, Debbie was still glancing at her repeatedly. A subtle smile mixed with questioning eyes, but she didn't ask anything else. Just shrugged and grabbed her bag. “Weird, sure.”

/////////////// 

Bea sat down at her station in hopes of eating a bit of a snack and looking over one of the new magazines before her next client came in. She had just opened the magazine in her lap and reached her hand inside of her lunch bag when the worker at the front counter called her name. Bea sighed, rolling her eyes without turning around. She figured it was another thing she needed to do because of someone slacking during their shift. 

“Bea, this woman says she's got an appointment, but I don't see her on the list,” the desk woman said, her voice a bit shrill. 

Tossing the magazine aside, Bea stood with an agitated expression. She turned to walked towards the counter. “Charlotte I've told you it's best that you call before,” she said, but she stopped walking seeing long blonde hair. Quite the opposite of Charlotte's pixie cut. It had been a week. A whole week since she had seen the blonde, and she had honestly figured the woman had gotten bored with the idea of her, moved on to more exciting things. “Allie?”

It had been almost a whole week. Bea had been busy collecting photos of any bruise Harry left, applying for jobs. Sure she'd thought of the blonde a few times, as random the two times they interacted, but for the most part she'd figured she'd seen the last of the mysterious stranger.

“So you do know her then,” the bunned woman at the desk said. “Could have told me someone new was coming in,” she said, dramatically sitting back in her seat. 

After giving the receptionist a look, Bea looked back to Allie who was leaning against the tall desk, smiling down at her cockily. “Bea,” she said, cooly. “Came for that cut and color.”

The one they hadn't agreed to, Bea thought. Allie looked different. Cleaner. The part of her lip that was split last they saw each other had pretty much healed, her face was nicely made up, and her hair, still wild, looked like a comb had actually made it through it at some recent time. The younger woman looking more, what, civilized? It didn't put Bea at ease, and yet she thought it should. 

She looked around the shop and realized a few of her coworkers were watching them closely, two of them whispering with prying eyes. A new, way younger client. She swore she heard one of them say they thought maybe it was Harry's mistress, but she didn't want to wait to hear more. Gesturing for Allie to follow her, she kept her head down as they walked over to her station.

“I was right, then,” Allie said, taking a seat after Bea put her snack and magazine away. 

“What?” she asked, checking her clock. Really, she wasn't sure she had time to deal with the situation. Charlotte was a regular who tipped well. Allie was a woman she saw eating off the street and still felt comfortable approaching Bea, not that she knew Bea had seen her eating off the ground. 

Allie waited until Bea had covered her with the protective shawl. “About you not being much of a charmer.”

The smile on the blonde's face was supposed to level out the insult, but Bea felt it anyways. “You just surprised me is all. And not just today.” It was true. The monotony over the years left her unsure of how to handle whatever Allie was doing. Her years with Harry made it difficult to confront anyone, and also made her crave some kind of interactions that lacked the harshness and judgment she was typically subjected to. 

“Hmm,” was Allie's simple reply. Bea began to gather a few things, noticing that Allie was studying the room. The young woman caught her eye in the mirror after a few moments. “I get it.” She tipped her head towards Michelle laughing with her bad dye job client. “She hates her,” she said, talking about Michelle as she gave a fake laugh that could be heard across the shop. “Better to be the silent, endearing type than a plastic bitch.”

A burst of laughter fell from Bea's lips. She pressed a few fingers to them in shock. Sucking in her cheeks as she straightened her face, she turned to Allie, uncomfortable by how close she had to stand next to the blonde. “What would you like?”

“I'm not sure.”

A hairdresser's worse nightmare. She watched as Allie ran her fingers through part of her hair, pulling the ponytail holder out and letting the fullness of her hair encircle her face and shoulders. It was thicker than Bea had realized. Thinning it out would do the blonde some good, a few inches cut off to get rid of dead ends and even it out a bit.

“What do you think?” Allie asked.

Bea hadn't realized the woman was watching her so closely until their eyes met. The pleasant expression on the blonde's face was much softer than the grin she wore the last times they saw each other. That put Bea more at ease than the cleaned up version of Allie sitting in her chair. 

“It's your hair, so—”

“Come on. You do this for a living, right? And your color looks good. Give me what you got.”

Typically, in the rare moments that Bea had a client new enough to not know to show up with at least a few ideas, Bea would continue to push the client to decide. She would show her magazines, have her take a seat and think it over. A patient but rigid smile on her face. Today there was no time to tell Allie to take a seat in the waiting area, have some water and look over the magazines, and the young woman didn't seem likely to budge. 

Bea nervously walked to stand behind Allie, hesitating with her hands just above the woman's hair before finally letting her fingers touch the dirty blonde locks. The smoothness of it surprised her, but her assessment of it was correct. “Let's give it a wash.”

“Lead the way,” Allie smiled. 

Over at the sink, Bea's palms began to sweat a little as Allie lie back. The woman gazed up at her, which was normal for a client in that position at first. But the leering wasn't usually part of it. In fact, it never was. Fortunately the feel and sound of the water as she wet Allie's hair eased her tension, and made that feeling of being stared at fade away. She poured some shampoo and began to massage it into Allie's scalp, hesitating when she both felt and heard the hum of satisfaction from her surprise client. 

“Alright, I get it. No need to talk when you've got the fingers of a goddess,” Allie said, closing her eyes slowly. She let her head turn easily in Bea's hands, giving her access to the sides, the ability to reach to the back of the skull. “How long have you worked here?”

She wanted to comment on Allie saying there was no need to talk and then asking a question, but stopped herself. “A few years,” she answered. 

“Been doing it longer than that though, from the feel of it.” 

Looking down at Allie's face, Bea shook her head. She wasn't shaking her head no. Allie wasn't watching her to see her disapproving of the small compliment. Part of her wanted the blonde to just accept the cut and color, and stop with the attempts of being slick, but the other parts of her tingled and warmed. 

“I really do appreciate the cash from the other night. The kick to the back, not so much. But this wash alone makes up for that.”

Bea couldn't help but picture Allie on the steps again, organizing the dirtied food. “I'm still sorry about that.”

“Good. You've got a hell of a hard shin.” 

Bea was smiling again, so much that it hurt her face a little. They were silent until she finished the wash and towel dried Allie's hair. Back at the station, Bea looked through her scissors in her drawer. When she turned back she saw Allie's eyes jump to her face, not even having to wonder where those eyes had been. She just didn't understand. Why was Allie so set on having more interactions with her after she'd kicked her off the steps? What kind of person was so casually forward with someone who was clearly awkward under scrutiny?

Bea began to part and cut, layer by layer. The music in the place was actually tolerable at the moment, so she found a good rhythm that she hoped would enable to finish in time for Charlotte's appointment. “Is it alright if I cut quite a bit off?” she asked.

“I'm trusting you,” Allie answered. “You really are this quiet with everyone?”

Questions and comments without a bit of insult, or teasing, appeared to be impossible for the blonde. “Not everyone.” She gestured towards a photo that was on the corner of her section of the shop's mirror. “That's my daughter, Debbie.”

“She's gorgeous. The teen years must be rough for you as a mum. Fending all the trouble makers away. That's all I remember about high school anyways. Sleazy pubescent losers.”

“You're scaring me,” Bea joked. “Debbie's a good girl. Not much of an issue with trouble makers.” Harry would probably scare the shit out of them anyways. A simple stare during one of his moods and they'd see the darkness in him. “I'm sure you kept your parents busy though,” she added, and truly believed it.

“I'll take that as a compliment, Bea.”

The way Allie said her name was so pointed. Probably to rub in the fact that she found out what it was despite purposely not telling her, but there was a certain weight behind the first letter that shook Bea. “She'll graduate and be off to university sooner than should be possible, but I'm excited for her.”

“You should be,” Allie said with a genuine smile. “Every good parent's dream.”

Even the more innocent of compliments stung, apparently. “Yeah.” Bea finished up the cut and started to apply the little bit of color just to brighten the blonde in Allie's hair. Once applied, she had Allie sit while she went and cleaned some of her supplies. None of her coworkers were turning to look at the blonde anymore. That didn't mean that they wouldn't talk later, but it was nice to see they had moved on pretty quickly. When she finally looked over at Allie herself, she was first startled to see that the woman was watching her, but breathed easy when the blonde looked away. 

The woman fascinated her, she had to admit. From their first awkward encounter, to the invite to dinner, to coming to the shop. No part of their encounters led Bea to understand why Allie had persisted, but the feelings of curiosity lowered any instinct to be as cold and distant as she initially intend. Plus, the woman was a client in that moment, and Bea had promised herself that she'd give her clients that bit of peace she found in her work, too. 

She didn't go back over to her station until it was time to wash out the dye, despite that promise. And the washing was quick before the blow drying began, preventing them for talking for a bit longer. Something Bea was grateful for, honestly. She watched as the hair fanned dramatically around Allie's head, the way the blonde would carefully check her phone when she needed to hold her head down, tap her fingers on the chair when she had to turn this way and that. When the blonde's hair was dry Bea heated the straightener to give it a very slight curl.

“It looks great so far,” Bea said, studying her work. The heat of the straightener was a good distraction from the now even softer hair. “What do you do?”

Allie's eyebrows rose for a moment and then settled back into the same pleasant expression. “It's a bit like what you do. Making people feel good about themselves. Not for as long as this cut and color will last, thank goodness,” she laughed. “A bit more TLC though.”

Hearing the nonanswer, Bea couldn't believe what came out of her mouth next. “You're full of shit,” she said, laughing and covering her mouth. “Sorry.”

“No, you're right. I am, aren't I?” Allie asked. “Seriously though, the cut, color, bonus massage disguised as a wash – I get the whole spa day thing now. You guys wouldn't happen to have a steam room around here, would you?”

Bea shook her head, cheeks tight as she fought off the painful smile on her face. “Enough. Almost finished here.” It was true, in a few more moments Bea was finished. She pushed back the shorter strand in the front. “All done,” she said, letting her eyes drop to Allie's. The woman was staring up at her, no smile, or smirk. Bea's hand dropped from Allie's hair and the blonde caught it gently between her fingers. Bea gasped, pulling her hand back quickly. She cleared her throat and walked to remove the shawl, glancing around to see if anyone was watching. 

Allie decided to acknowledge Bea's anxiousness this go round. “How much do I owe you?”  
“Just the flat rate up front,” Bea said, her voice cracking even though she'd cleared it. She felt bad charging the blonde anything seeing her usual state when she popped up, but she didn't want to insult her either. The flat rate was cheap enough. And one lost tip wasn't so bad with Charlotte up next.

“It looks fucking fantastic, really. Thanks for not kicking me out. This has been oddly...fun, you avoiding me at the sinks for a while there aside.” 

Bea started to deny it, opening her mouth and then closing it. Her palms were sweating again. “You're welcome.”

“Bye, then. Good luck closing up tonight.” She reached into her pocket, and put something on Bea's counter in front of the mirror before heading to the front desk to pay. 

“Bye,” Bea said, too quiet to be heard at that point. She watched as Allie happily approached the desk, planting her elbows on top of it as she spoke before paying. Then the blonde turned towards her and waved. Bea waved back. The light flowed in through the door and overtook Allie's form, the bell above dinging loudly. Looking back towards the mirror, Bea walked over and picked up what turned out to be way too generous of a tip wrapped in a rubber band to hold a piece of red paper to it. She pulled the paper free and unfolded it. Inside was a phone number with a note.

_'Love to hear from you. – Allie.'_


	2. Truths, Denial, and a Yes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More unexpected encounters with Allie leave Bea further confused. Meanwhile, her home life begins to shift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, let me say -- I'm beyond grateful for the epic response to the first chapter. I was surprised, humbled, and then terrified about how much I could epicly fuck this up. Still pretty nervous about it, but I'm settling in a bit more, and I hope you're all able to enjoy this chapter just as much as you enjoyed the first one. We're diving into a few more of the dramatic lines of the story, hope it settles well with you guys. Again, super flattered. Thanks so much! Cheers!

Bea stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, eyes trailing along her body. There were dark spots that peaked out from beneath her underwear. A few on her arms. She had just taken pictures with a disposable camera she kept hidden behind the bathroom sink, in a plastic bag. The camera would be full soon, and hopefully she'd hear back from the market by the shop. Today had been another long-sleeve day, but luckily it had also been her day off so she didn't have to worry about looks from her coworkers, and more importantly soon all of that would be over so she wouldn't have to worry about covering up at all. She placed her hands on the rim of the sink. 

Allie. She was thinking about her again. Their first encounter she had been shaken, disgusted even; the second had lessen the discuss but not lessened her curiosity, and the third had quickly morphed her curiosity into something else. Something that made her uneasy, but more alive than she'd remembered feeling in a long time. She ran her fingers over that red piece of paper, taking in the way the paper tickled her fingers as they lightly ran over it. The feeling in her stomach was heavier, but similar. Just a few smiles, flattery, and teasing and she was stuck thinking about her. 

Damn Harry for making her so desperate for adult interaction by isolating her. 

That had to be it. 

She'd been without friends for years. Then this blonde woman isn't scared off by her embarrassing behavior, and she couldn't stop thinking about her. Her mind had taken the bits of conversation the two of them had and played the words of the note repeatedly, the sound of Allie's voice so clear in in her mind. 

_Love to hear from you. --Allie._

No. Anything other than admitting it was more than curiosity was pure naivety and she knew it. But she'd never thought, or felt so drawn to another woman ever. Another person even, since her first few dates with Harry and that had turned out to all be an act on his part. 

Three hard bangs on the door startled her. Harry.“I need you to go get some food, Bea. And some beer as well.”

Mostly that, Bea thought. She said nothing, but grabbed her robe off the hook on the door. Placing her left hand in her pocket, her fingers clinched shut when she felt a small piece of paper there. The note from Allie. Earlier that morning she had taken it out of her bag when Harry left their bedroom, so tempted to dial the number on it, but she had done nothing except for take it to the bathroom with the intent to rip it up and flush it down the toilet. Now that the toilet was beside her, she couldn't do it.

“Hurry up then,” Harry yelled. “The game is about to start and my mates will be here soon.”

Sports seasons were the most annoying times of the year for Bea, no matter what sport Harry and his 'mates' were into at the time. Mostly they sat around getting drunk and saying stupid things, but whatever. It occupied him and got him sloshed, which meant he was less likely to hit her. Didn't mean he was nicer though. Quite the opposite. If his mates talked about how great of a wife Bea was, so unlike what he complains about at work, Harry would whisper harsh things to her in the kitchen. Occasionally even disturbingly sexual considering their situation. Sometimes the other men would give her strange looks and she'd wonder if they knew what was going on. One of Harry's friends in the past had found out about him abusing Bea, and been one of the first people to use the, he's-a good-guy-really-underneath line. Harry didn't talk to the guy for much longer after that, and Bea never found out what exactly happened between the two of them. She hadn't asked.

“I'll get dressed now,” she said, holding the knob for a second in hopes of hearing him walk away, and he did. Still, she waited a moment longer but not long enough for him to come back to make sure she was doing what he said. She opened the door slowly, peaking into their bedroom to see he was gone before she quickly discarded the robe and got dressed. There was a bit of rain earlier that day so she grabbed a light jacket before heading out, giving Debbie a nod and smile on the way out. 

Bea got into her car, watching the garage open through her rear-view mirror. A market around the corner definitely had all that she needed, but again Allie's voice echoed through her head. It was her day off, but if she had been working, she'd be done closing the shop soon and walking out the door. She decided to go to the market by the shop. It was also the one that she'd applied to, she reminded herself, so she'd be able to ask about the status of her application. She left the house trying to think little else about the whys and wheres, listing off necessary items in her head instead. 

There was a strip of businesses by the shop, but it was the market close to it that she visited often, because many times she needed to grab a few things after work. A lot of the market employees were familiar with her and were pleasant enough, if they weren't aware of her situation from seeing one of her bruises. The market also tended to be slow at night, which Bea figured she'd appreciate very much after the busy, loud days at the shop. Unfortunately the bright lights gave her a bit of a headache, but most things tended to do that those days. Stress was a bitch after all. And so was fascination, apparently.

She parked her car where she typically parked it for work, that way she could check in to see how much the woman who closed for the night left undone. If she didn't check now, it'd just be a lowly not-surprise when she opened the next morning. This would let her know if she needed to get there early or not, she told herself. It didn't calm her pounding heart though as she neared the corner to turn and see the steps. 

They were empty. 

No surprise that the woman she hadn't called or text, even in purposing a friendship, hadn't tried yet again to see her. The distraction wasn't needed. On her left, across the street, was the market. Bea stopped to make sure traffic was clear enough to cross instead of going in at the shop. The market was pretty empty as predicted. She picked a cart and headed towards the items she needed. 

What was she thinking? Neither one of them really knew each other or had obligations to the other. She was married after all, and spent every night with a man. She liked men. Always had. All of it had just been her being too happy to have someone take any kind of interest her. Obviously she'd gone way too long without having a friend, after all. The consequences, humiliating misunderstanding of basic interactions. Platonic interactions. And loads of confusing feelings. But the way Allie had stared up at her...She'd felt something. 

Most of the items she wanted were easy to find, and Harry's beer was on sale thank goodness. Saying anything about that expense was never an option, whereas if Bea bought a few things that were unnecessary she was called out of her name and reminded again of how little she makes compared to him. If they spent less that wouldn't matter, if he asked her, but of course he never would do that. Never would trust his instincts over his own, care to acknowledge them even. 

Maybe that why her time with Allie left her feeling so odd, as Debbie said. She needed to go home, focus on the task at hand, which meant changing her life for the better. Not getting distracted by vague interactions with a stranger. 

“Hey, Barb. Any news on my application?” she asked, cheerily. The woman was much nicer than her coworkers during these interactions, but Bea knew not to trust who someone first appeared to be. Or at least she thought she knew. Allie wasn't getting the same treatment as everyone else in her life.

No word on the application, but they'd be making calls soon. Good. 

She walked out of the store with her hood up, gripping the few bags tightly. The street was still calm so she decided to take her time as she crossed, since the bags weren't too heavy. Carrying her work bag and Harry's beers were good lifting practice for long days of holding her arms up as she worked, so it seemed. On the sidewalk in front of her she could see there was a couple walking. They were shadowed, but she could see that their arms were around each other and they were talking with their faces close to one another. More types of moments Bea was unfamiliar with after so many years. The pair slowed and stopped at a car beneath a street lamp, and Bea nearly dropped everything.

Bea didn't want to assume it was Allie just because of the hair cut, or the woman's height, but something told her that it was exactly who she thought it was. The man was slightly shorter so the blonde had her arm around his shoulder, his low on her waist. Allie whispered something in the man's ear and he turned to look at her, shaking his head at whatever she said. Bea thought about that day in the shop. The way that Allie attempted to take her hand, staring up at her with round, blue eyes. 'Love to hear from you.'

Her pace quickened, and she lowered her head in hopes of her face being entirely hidden under her hood. Allie hadn't hid underneath her hood that first night they met, but Bea was hiding then as she practically ran across the street, and she felt like part of her would be hiding from that point on. She was so stupid, just like Harry often told her. 

By the time her feet hit the opposite sidewalk the apparent couple kissed, and Allie stepped back. The man reached into his jacket pocket, pulled something out, and handed it to Allie before he got into the black car they were standing beside. Allie didn't get in. Instead she stood on the sidewalk looking at what he had handed her. Bea could take a guess from the way the blonde was turning it over in her hand. Money.

Keeping her head down, Bea headed towards her car, bypassing the shop entirely. When she got a few steps passed it she heard her name being called, but didn't turn around. The whole thing had been an act. Allie probably thought she was some gullible idiot after she'd given her money that first night. Bea thought of the blonde thinking of ways she could gain Bea's trust. Taking her out to dinner was a no go, so the blonde given her a large tip in hopes of one day getting Bea to give her much more money than she was tipped. And for what, sexual favors, or being stupid enough to buy that a friend was in need. Something to that effect, Bea was sure.

When she got home, Harry was not happy about how long it took her and decided to show her things would be different this sports season the only way he knew how, by leaving more bruises. The next day the camera would be full, and she'd be that much closer to taking the camera in. 

////////////////

Bea wiped her brow with the back of her hand, eyes scanning the shop for anything she may have missed. Every station was nice and tidy, except for Michelle's, as usual. Bea had decided not to clean up after the woman at all that go round, to her own delight. It had been a tiring few days. She still hadn't heard back from the market, and her timeline for everything was getting tighter by the day. Soon she'd pick up the photos, unable to print them herself at home. She'd pick them up, and head directly to the police department, Debbie at school and away from it all for hours after that if Bea properly remembered the teen's project schedule correctly. Things had been a bit scattered since that night. Since she met Allie. 

The red piece of paper and money were back in her work bag, calling out to her throughout the day. She'd stand over the bag at her station, at home with it on her bed, staring down at the note more than the money each time. Occasionally she'd dare to touch the paper, but the memory of seeing Allie with that man made her pull back almost instantly. First the eating off the ground, now a dark, private scene in an all too public place. She felt stupid for thinking she could possibly have trusted her instincts about someone she hardly knew. Her curiosity, and the pull that it created had led her to another toxic person.

She looked to the clock above the price chart at the front desk. It was time to get going. Just as she thought it, her phone dinged. Figuring it was Debbie telling her to come pick her up, she went ahead and put the mop away, picked up her bag and started to head out the door. When she pulled it open, however, and saw Allie waiting outside she nearly closed it. She pulled it back to where she couldn't be seen. 

“You've gotta be kidding me,” she said to herself, angrily. 

She heard the scuffling of shoes. “I know you're in there, Bea.”

“Some people would call this harassment, you know?” Bea shouted through the door, heart pounding again. What the hell was wrong with the other woman, did she have absolutely no shame in being found out the way she had. And why couldn't she take the hint and just disappear already?

“Says the woman who was spying on me last night.”

Bea threw the door open, brows up. “I was not spying on you.” She walked out, locking the door behind her and stepping around Allie with hard eyes. “For your information I had just gone to the market, it was a coincidence.” Of course Allie was walking along with her, either completely oblivious to Bea's anger or not caring. There was no need to guess which. “Look,” Bea said, stopping. She looked up the blonde, more annoyed by that grin than ever. “Whatever you thought you were going to get out of this, you're not. I know what you—do, and I don't want any part of it. You won't get any money from me.”

“What are you talking about?” Allie asked, letting her smile falter a bit. Her eyes narrowed, back straightened. 

“That man you were with,” Bea explained. “The wad of cash he handed to you.” Really she'd thought it was obvious that she'd seen the exchange, being accused of spying and all. But Allie's reaction said otherwise.

“Shit.” The smile was gone. Blue eyes turned to the ground, and Bea got to study the woman. There seemed to be many thoughts going through Allie's head in that moment, the silence between them dense. But when Allie turned back there was no look of humiliation at all. “I'm a prostitute,” she said, with a shrug. 

“I...know,” Bea said. 

“Yeah, but it's important that I tell you myself. That I say the words.”

Bea wanted to say again that she already knew, so there was no point in admitting it as if she were doing the right thing by revealing the truth after the fact. She felt frustrated, not just with the situation, but with her feelings towards it. Like she should have been told, especially before the note. Really she knew it wasn't any of her business. They weren't even friends, technically, and she had no intentions of letting her strange feelings overrule her mission to get out of her abusive marriage. Still, that pain in her gut in seeing Allie and that man was not something she could forget. Jealousy had never been her thing. 

“And, hey, the last time we spent time together I wasn't the one left with a hefty tip,” Allie said. 

“Do you think everything is a joke?” Bea asked, as she started to walk again, expecting Allie to follow. “That's the second time you've compared our jobs.”

“If I didn't joke about it I'd be a lot worse off, trust me. Telling someone you're a street worker isn't exactly the best way to make friends. Didn't figure you were the judgmental type after you saw me eating off the ground and still talked to me the next night.”

Bea hesitated for a moment but didn't say anything. They reached her car and she turned to face Allie, making sure to keep a good two feet between them, minimal. 

“Figured you might even call the cops the next time I was outside the shop, thinking I was some bum who came to rob you. Took the risk anyways, of course,” Allie laughed. “It'd been a long time since a stranger didn't look at me like I was scum and tell me to fuck off. Maybe even pepper spray me. Or ask me if I fuck for cash or drugs.”

Bea flinched. She didn't want to hear the answer to that explicitly. Rather than go into those sort of details, she preferred what she already knew to be true, which was that cash was involved at least some of the time. All else she would consider to be none of her business. Whatever she was feeling before, it was over.

“You're back to being quiet.”

“According to you, I'm like this with everyone.”

“Except Debbie.” 

Her daughter, who she needed to go pick up.“Except Debbie.” She looked into her bag, clicking the button on the side of the phone. There was a message from her daughter she had yet to read, but luckily not much time had passed. She looked back to Allie. “I shouldn't have assumed you were up to anything just because...” she trailed off. “My life is a mess and sometimes the noise in my head...” Talking to people wasn't her strong point those days, and she felt it especially with Allie. The blonde actually listening for a response and being interested in what Bea said was unusual for Bea 

“I get it,” Allie said, allowing Bea to avoid getting into it. But apparently not for the sake of Bea's privacy, but location. “We could grab a drink, talk it over.”

Bea's throat tightened. For the past few days she had been so tempted to dial Allie's number. She'd imagined telling the woman they could be friends, and Allie cheekily agreeing. Whether she wanted the blonde to end it there, stop all flirting and approaching her in that manner, she wasn't sure. She did, however, know that it had felt good to have someone willing to talk to her. Someone new, and exciting. They could be friends, couldn't they? She'd ask, hopefully. And Allie would say yes, but nothing would change. Bea knew deep down that change was inevitable though. 

“I can't. My daughter is waiting for me to pick her up.” It was the truth, and a very convenient one, because it left her with no option other than to decline the offer. The feeling of being tempted had no basis in that moment, her main priority in life needed her. 

“Alright,” Allie said, softly. “Another time, maybe.”

The blonde didn't give Bea time to respond before turning and walking off. Bea got into her car, preventing herself from watching the woman walk off. After pulling her phone out of her bag she tossed the bag into the backseat. She started the car and put on her seat belt before unlocking her phone to read the unread message. Debbie was going to need a bit more time, hours possibly. She was going to call when she was ready, and was sorry for the change of plans. So was Bea. She looked up from her phone to see that Allie was completely out of sight, and decided to wait at home.

/////////////////

The next morning Bea, Debbie, and Harry all sat at the breakfast table. He had not been asleep when Bea had first gotten home the night before, and had been eerily silent all night and morning. His eyes had watched Bea carefully as she made her way around the kitchen, surprised that he was going to be there long enough to have any sort of real breakfast with them. 

Debbie had noticed the tension and had whispered a few questions before they sat down, when Harry would get a message from one of his coworkers and would have to look away. Bea was sure he noticed her and Debbie whispering, but he wouldn't question Debbie the way he questioned her. Debbie was pure and good. Bea was worthless and a liar. 

Bea had reassured Debbie that everything would be okay, and she was sure it would be until later that night. Debbie would be late finishing up again that night. Bea'd have to delay a bit, maybe clean Michelle's area thoroughly just to waste time. Bea would need a favor or two the coming weeks, someone to cover her shifts a few times after she went to the police. Kissing the youngest hairdresser's ass tended to make the young woman want to treat someone nicely when anyone was looking. Then she could brag about how good of a person she was right before talking shit about whomever she was 'helping out'. 

Harry finished off his orange juice in long, loud gulps. “Ahhh,” he said, putting his glass on the table loudly. “Been a while since you've cooked such a good breakfast, eh Bea. Why is that, hmm?” He threw his napkin onto the table. 

It wasn't really a question, and Bea knew it. Breakfast was no different than usual. Not that he often stuck around to find out. He was baiting her, so she just gave a quick fake smile and turned her head back to her plate. Her eyes cut to Debbie who was picking at her food with her fork, taking a small bite here or there. Typically the teen inhaled whatever Bea made, but the late night doing the project seemed to have tired her out, and now Harry was being a tyrant again. 

“Debbie called the house last night looking for you, did she tell you?” Harry asked. 

Bea looked to her daughter again. The girl's eyes were wide. They met hers with an apologetic look, letting her know that it hadn't been intentional, Debbie's not warning her about calling the house and talking to Harry. He'd obviously been disturbed by the whole thing, for some reason. A sign he was still more agitated than usual. If Harry hadn't been there Bea would have let her brow dip, questioning Debbie's unusual forgetfulness, but she knew she herself then would have immediately apologized anyways. It wasn't her daughter's responsibility to make sure Bea was safe, it was the other way around. 

“Where were you, Bea?”

She met his eyes. “Cleaning up the shop.”

“Why didn't you see that Debbie had messaged you?” he asked, crossing his arms. 

“Really I should have called in case the music was still playing overhead,” Debbie said, with an obvious forced laugh. “Might have heard the ring, then. Right, Mum?”

Harry reached into his pocket, his chair screeching against the floor as she pushed it back. His hand covering it completely, he placed it onto the table, eyes staring into Bea's. He pulled his hand back revealing a small red piece of paper. “Who's Allie?”

Bea almost dropped her fork, almost let her face slide into a panicked expression. Typically even telling him the truth made her feel like she was about to break into a sweat, and she'd curl into herself internally. This time she found her mind had less trouble finding the words she needed. Her face remained neutral. “A woman who came to the shop. She wants me to take her on as a client.”

Debbie's head turned to her quickly. The new client comment, Bea knew. She hadn't mentioned Allie by name the night she'd called the blonde weird, but she had denied having a new client.

He stared at Bea for a moment, then slowly turned to Debbie who began to look at her plate instead of meeting either one of her parents' eyes. “Well,” he said, turning back to Bea. “Another old lady for you to bore to the grave.” He stood up, leaving his plate on the table, kissing Debbie on the head. “Aim higher than what you've done to your head. Maybe you'll finally start bringing home more money then,” he said, looking at Bea over Debbie's head. He picked up his things and left. 

Bea expected Debbie to start questing her, but the teen got up from the table and scraped her food into the trash, and started towards her room. “I'll be ready in a few.”

“Yeah, alright,” Bea said, to a closing door. 

The rest of the day was slow. Charlotte came in again which only made her think of Allie. Of Harry asking about Allie. Debbie's shocked eyes. Charlotte going on about another strange, doomed to fail business idea was more dull than her own life for the first time in a while. She tried not to label a marriage of abuse as excitement in her life, no matter how many paid to see dramas about it. It was impossible to get out of her own head with the change in the monotony of her life over the years. Feelings of fear, pain, and sadness being the dominating emotions.

What would the chatty woman say if she were to ask her for advice? How does one talk about your abusive husband scaring the shit out of you by finding the note of a technical non-client, having lied about who said non-client was, and why does a daughter's stare can leave such feelings of exposure? 

Bea didn't dare interrupt the woman to ask any of those questions, instead responding accordingly when prompted, and saying nothing about the importance of a well thought out plan like she always had the urge to. She knew better than to not take the time to think things through, and yet her eyes turned to the clock repeatedly. Debbie would need an extra hour. She'd need an thirty to forty-five minutes. Harry calling her boring kept popping up in her head, along with his comment about her hair. 

Allie had trusted her that day with the cut and color, and gave a simple compliment on Bea's hair as well. The fact that the blonde hadn't found Bea's socially awkwardness stumbling, or outbursts repulsive still surprised Bea. Her soft voice when she suggested they get a drink another time. No matter how hard Bea tried she just couldn't stop her mind from returning to the blonde. Allie had said friend. It was potential friends who didn't do well hearing she was a prostitute. It could stop there and be just that, a friendship. Her fascination fizzling out because she'd draw a line and Allie's behavior towards her would then change. Everyone's did after w while.

Charlotte's tip was light, which meant she had noticed Bea being distracted after all. It came as a shock that the woman even cared that she talked less, but Bea didn't take a moment to internally chastise herself for breaking her promise to provide the best service, nor did she chastise herself for breaking the promise she'd made to herself about trusting no one but Debbie. 

That feeling inside her stomach grew stronger as she approached her bag, pulling the piece of paper out. She took a shuddering deep breath, opening a text box on her phone.

_'One drink.'_

//////////////////////

Bea tried not to get through her cleaning too quickly. Allie's simple response of, _'You won't regret it,'_ had made her blush. And kind of regret her messaging the blonde, ironically, but not enough for her to cancel. Though that may have been just the thing to get Allie to back off for good. At least then it wouldn't be her personality that scared her off, Bea thought, but the thought didn't have time to settle. 

Light squeezed through the shops blinds and Bea heard the sound of an engine, then the sound of a car door closing. Bea's chest was already on the verge of bursting open, and when she heard a soft knock on the shop door it only felt closer to doing so. She needed to calm down. Deep breaths, small steps. Neither one of those things helped when she opened the door and saw Allie.

“Well, hey,” the blonde said, already smiling. “Ready to go?”

“Sure,” Bea said, struggling against the smile on her own face. It had been there for hours. Since Allie had responded really. Even her coworkers had noticed, to her horror. She'd ignored their questions of whether her marriage was improving, opting out of being that week's gossip. If they only knew what had her grinning like a fool, they'd probably laugh at her even more. Think she was desperate. Maybe she was.

“It's a nice night,” Allie said, standing on the steps as Bea locked up. “Figured we'd walk, if that's alright. There's a spot close by that has decent prices.”

The car, Bea had noticed, was not outside the shop. Her feet and legs hurt slightly from the long day of work, but she wasn't going to let it show. “Alright then.” She did, however, roll her eyes at her own inability to shake her nervousness and form actual sentences. 

“So,” Allie said, cutting her eyes at Bea. “Long day at work?”

Bea laughed at Allie's attempt at small talk. Not that she could really judge. “Yeah, pretty busy.” Three words, an improvement. She looked over at Allie, hesitating. “You?” Asking a prostitute she barely knew about their day of work felt strange, but social courtesy was a thing, Bea had heard. 

Allie wasn't kidding when she said the place was close. She pulled open the door to a small bar, holding it open for Bea. “Just got off, actually,” she answered with a wink. 

Bea wasn't sure if the wink excited or grossed her out, but she laughed anyways. Friends made sexual jokes sometimes, she did remember that. She had just never contributed for reasons that no one who'd been in her life for years hadn't figured out already. 

“Too soon?” Allie asked, having led them to the actual bar inside versus a table. Most of them were full anyways. 

“Just not good with that kind of stuff,” Bea admitted, avoiding eye contact as much as possible.

“Sex?” Allie asked, seeming shocked. 

Bea glanced over in time to see Allie's eyes work their way across her body. She blushed and looked away again, only nodding in response. Luckily the bulky bartender distracted Allie, asking about their drink order. Bea envied how easily the blonde interacted with people as she ordered a drink. She also noticed that Allie was a flirt in general, which lessened the tension in Bea's shoulders. There was a subtle difference, a less intense gaze from the blonde than she sometimes directed at her, but Bea still felt a lot more comfortable seeing that she wasn't the sole target of Allie's flirtatious behavior.

“What will you have?” Allie asked, looking back before Bea could turn away. 

“I'm not sure.” She pulled her eyes away from Allie's, looking over the variety of liquor bottles, tap handles. “It's been a long time since I've had a proper drink actually.”

“Now I feel like I'm a bad influence,” Allie said. She turned to the bartender and held up two fingers. “She'll have the same.” Once the man walked away, Allie turned slightly on her stool so she was partially facing Bea. “I was really surprised to hear from you, to be honest. After the other night.”

She was still surprised at herself, even as she sat there. It all felt a little unreal. Thrilling, like she was being a defiant teen, proving her point. Well, not proving her point, because at the rate she was going she'd say so little she thought maybe Allie would die of boredom. Their eyes met again. No, Allie wouldn't. 

“Me too. I made an ass of myself,” Bea scoffed. The bartender brought their drinks, which were a faint peach and had one cherry in them each. 

“For the second time. The first being the time you kicked me in the back,” Allie said as she raised her glass, to tap against Bea's. “Cheers to making asses of ourselves as often as possible.”

Bea lifted her glass, thinking how juvenile such a toast was. She was never comfortable making an ass out of herself and yet there she was saying cheers to future moments surely to be filled with humiliation on her part. When had Allie made an ass of herself during their time together? Bea couldn't recall. 

“I'm glad you agreed to come out with me. Proved my theory was right, after all.”

“And what theory is that? Another insult, I'm sure,” Bea said, still trying to fight the smile on her face.

“That you're interested,” she paused. “In getting to know me, of course.”

Bea laughed. “Right, of course.” She thought about how much she had been thinking about Allie over the past days. The number of times she'd ran her fingers of that piece of paper. Her easily lying to Harry about who the blonde was. “It's true, I am. As friends,” she added. 

“Friends,” Allie said, and they clanked their glasses together again. “Now, what is this about sex not being your thing?” Allie asked, her voice practically poking Bea in the side like an exited toddler. “I mean, yeah, you freaked about the prostitute thing at first, but that's most people.” Bea could simply blush harder, focus her eyes on the imitation cherry in her drink. Allie didn't seem phased by her silence though. “Friends talk about these things.”

“The first time they hang out?” Bea asked, amused. 

Unfortunately, the subject of sex was far from light for Bea. She had truly hoped the subject would be dropped, and not just because it made her face feel like it was on fire. Outside of Harry she didn't have any real sexual experiences, and the ones she had with him were....not pleasurable, to put it lightly. 

“My husband,” she started, carefully. “He isn't a nice man.”

“Ah,” the blonde said, taking a swallow of her drink. Then a second one, along with Bea. “Sorry to hear that.”

The apologetic look on Allie's face didn't demean Bea, or taunt her with judgment. It was quick, gone after another drink from the blonde's glass. Bea followed suit. They sat in silence for a moment, and then Bea found herself asking a question. 

“What's it like for you? You know,” she said, with a shrug so she wouldn't have to say the word. “Considering your....profession.” She found it interesting that Allie could talk so casually about it. Yes, Bea herself could casually talk about being a hairdresser, but she'd imagine that she wouldn't enjoy sex if she did it for a living either. 

“That's not sex,” Allie answered, holding up her hand so Bea would hold off on her question. “What I do out there.” The blonde nodded towards the door. “It's just a job. Just fucking.” She had that look in her eyes again. That deep stare. And Bea was captivated. “Sex isn't just about two bodies coming together,” Allie continued. She tentatively lifted her hand towards Bea, moving a few red strands away from her face. “It's in here, too.” After her hand dropped, she swiveled back on her stood. “You should try it sometimes. With a non-friend.” 

Bea didn't know what to say to that. She was pretty sure she had stopped breathing for a few seconds. Her throat felt insanely dry so she finished off her drink, grateful that it was small. “I should go,” she said, getting up. 

“Crap, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable--”

“No, it's not that,” Bea said. “I mean, you did, yes, but I have to pick up my daughter.” 

She started to pull out some money, but Allie was already putting some money on the bar. “I'll walk you to your car.” And she did. They didn't say anything, but when their eyes accidentally met when they were caught staring looking at one another, they'd laugh quietly.

Once they reached Bea's car they slowed. Allie made sure to move so that she was facing Bea, instead of standing beside her. “Next time I'll be on my best behavior, scouts honor.”

“Next time?” Bea asked. The lack of her mandatory two feet distance from others was strongly affecting her. When Allie stepped back she let out a a quiet sigh of relief. “Alright.”

“Good. Maybe it'll even be daylight outside,” Allie said, faking a gasp. “And a bit longer, perhaps.” She scanned Bea's face for a moment, then shook her head. “Night, Bea.” Then she was walking away again. Not hiding her turning to look back over her shoulder. 

It was the third time the blonde hadn't waited to hear Bea's goodnight in return, but Bea was sure Allie noticed how perplexed Bea still was by their – friendship. She was sure her stupid smile hadn't gone unnoticed either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently in the process of a very big, practically cross-country move, so unfortunately -- 'Til next week! Hope you enjoyed it. Someone offered to be my beta last go round, and I hope to take them up on that offer for the next chapter (thanks again Otrainbow for the offer). I am deliriously tired, so I apologize for anything missed. More Ballie time in the next one, but also more family drama, so yay!...?


	3. The Messes We Are, the Messes We Make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite her worries about being distracted from her home life, Bea can't resist strengthening her relationship with Allie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! If I go by what time it is here, I'm actually posting early, so ha! Thanks so much for the reviews, and continuing to read. I had so much fun writing this chapter. It was strangely easy -- once I could get started. I changed my layout a billion times, and still didn't stick to what I ended up with, but ah well haha. Anyways, shout out to my AMAZING beta, Otrainbow. Seriously, my process is insane so having an extra pair of eyes -- lifesaving. (Anything that's messed up is my doing, because I have a habit of adding or changing things right before posting. I know, I know...that negates things, but just in case...) Hope you all enjoy the chapter! Cheers!

The bell on the shop's door dinged. Bea froze. She had been turning each and every time it had dinged for the last thirty minutes, hoping to see the blonde loftily strolling up to the counter to check in for her appointment. Of course, if Bea just looked in the mirror lining the shop's walls then she could see that it wasn't Allie walking in, and save herself the inner humiliation at feeling so impatient, and anxious, which is what she did then. It still wasn't Allie walking in though.

Earlier in her shift Allie had messaged her to see how her shift was going, turning her sense of foreboding into a feeling of hopeful anticipation. It had only been two days since they had gotten that drink, but Bea had once again found herself wondering if Allie had finally been put off by her behavior. A grown woman unable to talk about sex without dashing out the door. She really had needed to pick up Debbie that night, and she had a good reason to avoid the topic. However, the fact that she couldn't talk about it still made her feel self-conscious. Friends talked about those things, like Allie said. Hell, even her coworkers talked to their clients about it. A terrifying prospect for Bea when her work was something that she used to find peace throughout her day.

She was putting away some of the things she'd used on the previous client, when the bell dinged again. Her eyes lifted to the mirror, and there was Allie. Bea sat her stuff down and allowed herself to finally turn around, scoffing when she heard Allie make a snide comment about the clerk's job being even easier this go round, since Bea had added her to the list in place of her client that canceled. 

“You gonna hassle her every time you come in?” Bea asked, once Allie was standing in front of her. 

Allie shrugged. “She deserves it, trust me. Now, when do I get my massage?”

Laughing, Bea gestured her arms towards the chair in her station. “Have a seat.” Allie walked past her, cutting her eyes at Bea before sitting down. Bea found herself holding her hands an inch away from Allie's hair, hesitating. 

“So, we're making this a regular thing now?” Allie asked, drawing her attention. 

Bea was happy to see her hands weren't visible in the wall mirror that Allie was watching her through, expecting a response from her. Apparently she took too long though.

“The whole, every time you come in, bit? Makes it sound like you'd like to see me here regularly.”

“With the way your ends are already looking...” Bea joked. She was surprised and grateful that her nervousness, though still present, wasn't preventing her from forming real sentences again. Their friendship was truly something that she wanted and she hadn't wanted much for so long, other than for Debbie to have a good future, and to get away from Harry. Socializing had become a thing she dreaded until she no longer desired it, or so she'd thought. It was something she could think about after things were settled with Harry. 

“Hey,” Allie gasped, as she brought her hand to her chest. “Was that an insult?”

“Just thought I'd even things out. What's that, two more and we're good?” Bea felt better. She breathed out a quiet sigh of relief as Allie responded, allowing her fingers to slip into silky strands. The ends hadn't really gotten bad, but a touch up would be good. Her eyes glided along Allie's roots, having the woman tilt her head, to allow Bea's eyes to travel the side of her face down to her neck. Bea's eyes didn't stop where Allie's hairline ended, however, they kept gliding down Allie's neck until they were following the shallow V of the shirt the blonde was wearing. 

No. Bea cleared her throat and picked up a haircut cape, tying its strings behind Allie's neck.

“Plus, it's not really my fault anyways,” Allie continued. “Moved into a new place, and it's fucking packed. I'm lucky to have hot water when I go to shower, let alone shampoo. I think making this a regular thing may be essential to my health, Bea. Emotional and physical.”

Bea laughed. “Oh, I'm sure,” she said, sarcastically. “Come on, first the wash.”

“Massage,” Allie corrected, as they walked over to the sinks. 

It had been so long since Bea got to indulge in such banter. The lightness of it, and ease. The warmth of joy in her chest as she was able to simply enjoy the moment, and not because of an obligation to keep a promise to herself, even when her clients were ridiculous. Allie settled back, her neck resting in the curved slot on the sink, and Bea got the shampoo and conditioner she needed ready before warming the water. 

“I can give you samples, if you'd like,” Bea said, as she began to wet the blonde's hair. “Maybe there's somewhere you can hide them at your new place.”

“You hide a lot of things in your house, Bea?”

Not for whatever reason Allie's tone was suggesting. Bea smiled. “Just take the samples,” she answered. Allie just nodded in response and let her eyes slide shut. Bea squeezed some shampoo out and began to push it through the blonde's hair, working it in slowly. “Do you typically live with a lot of people?” she asked.

“No,” Allie said, as if the idea were outrageous. “Been bouncing around lately, but this is the first time I've lived with so many people. A few years ago I moved back home for awhile, got kicked out 'cause of the whole prostitute, lesbian thing. They did have hope that I'd marry a guy, since I fuck them though. Trying to convince them that it was just for cash didn't exactly help, go figure.”

Bea couldn't help but glance around then, but no one was close enough to really hear what they were saying. Most were busy indulging themselves anyways, or surrounded by the noise of a hair dryer. “I would imagine not,” she finally said. She could never imagine hearing anything like that from Debbie, but even if she had, she couldn't imagine ever kicking her baby girl out. Ever. If anything she'd blame herself and strive to improve her life, but kick her out? “What kind of parents kick their own kid out?”

“I wasn't a kid,” Allie said, her voice lacking any humor. She went quiet, opening her eyes but not looking at anything in particular. “Like you said, I kept my parents busy when I was a teen. By the time they kicked me out, I'd really fucked it all up. Still am, I think,” she scoffed. 

“Don't be so hard on yourself.” There was a great irony in her saying that, and Bea knew it. Still, when their eyes met she offered a small, supporting smile. Whatever the younger woman had done, Bea had truly been drawn to the heart that she could see beneath that cocky smirk, her genuine kindness. Her initial instinct to be extremely cautious with Allie had been dismantled by that kindness. And the smirk, to be honest. “I would never kick Debbie out, especially not for those reasons.”

“That's what makes you a good mum,” Allie said. She must have noticed the quick change that washed over Bea's face, because there was a look of concern on her face the next time Bea looked towards her face. “You keep selling yourself short in that department.”

Even if the comment wasn't a question, Bea could hear that there was one that lies beneath the blonde's observation. Allie wanted to know why. They were talking about something very personal to Allie, so Bea felt it was only right that she too divulge something. But she couldn't. She couldn't talk about Harry abusing her in a multitude of ways, Debbie being a witness to so many horrible moments over the years, and the shame she felt at setting such a poor example of what it meant to be a strong woman for her own daughter. 

“Is it because of your not so nice husband?” Allie asked, eyes trying to meet Bea's. 

Again, layered and complex. Too many questions rolled into that simple one. Of course, it wasn't simple though. Bea knew that, but could she tell Allie? Really tell her? 

No. Not yet. 

Instead she nodded, vaguely answering the question. “Things will be different soon. I'm making sure of it.”

“Good.”

Bea allowed their eyes to meet. Her hands were still, fingers spread. “Yeah,” she said, voice cracking. She cleared her throat and kept on, ignoring Allie's sigh of satisfaction as she washed the shampoo out and began to rub the conditioner in next. 

She began to wonder what Allie would say if she knew what her marriage with Harry was really like. If she'd guessed, at all. There hadn't been a moment where Bea hadn't had her bruises covered when she'd been around Allie thus far, but part of her hoped that maybe she did already know and that she was just one of those people that wouldn't treat Bea differently. Allie hadn't treated her differently since she arrived at the shop, despite the whole friendship thing. Bea hoped that meant, if Allie were to somehow find out or if Bea did tell her about Harry, everything would be okay between her and the blonde. 

“I'm really glad you had that cancellation,” Allie said, as Bea toweled her hair. “This is exactly what I needed, yet again. Now if I could just get you to have the guts to call or text me more, I'd feel even better.”

“Phones do work both ways. At least, that's what they say.” They walked back to her station, Allie sitting down and watching her as she gathered all that she needed. Her back was to the blonde, but the mirror enabled Bea to see Allie's eyes trail along her, mouth hanging open. She was amazed by the blonde's ability to go shrug off the serious turn in their conversation at the sinks. 

“Who are they? I've asked you out twice now. As a friend,” she added. “Now it's your turn.”

“You're telling me that your visit to the shop is what you had in mind when you said you'd see me during daylight next time?” Bea asked. “Huh.” She walked to stand behind Allie, unwrapping the towel carefully and towel drying the hair some more. 

Allie laughed. “Do you really want to know what I had in mind?”

Bea was afraid to say yes, and from the way Allie had said it she knew that was the desired effect. Her being back to feeling uncomfortable, and flustered. “Sure,” she managed, right hand resting on the towel she placed around Allie's shoulders. 

The smirk on Allie's face grew. Eyes daring Bea to look away while simultaneously holding them in place. Bea's stupid heart sped up as Allie's mouth opened slowly. “Ice-cream.”

“Ice-cream?” Bea asked, with a frown, laughter filling her chest and calming her heart. 

“Yup. You and me, tomorrow, out there with the actual sun shining down on us.”

Bea moved to grab the hand dryer. Her hand that had sat on the towel felt warm, despite the moisture left from the wet fabric. She was shocked that the blonde wanted to see her again so soon. “Tomorrow, really?” she asked, voice small. 

Allie sat up a bit straighter. “Is tomorrow too soon?” she asked. “I get if you're getting tired of me jus-”

“It's not that,” Bea said, interrupting. “I'm just surprised. Again.” With the comb in her hand, and the hand dryer ready, she smiled. “I work a long shift tomorrow, but maybe during my hour break. If that sounds okay.”

“Sounds fantastic. I can work with an hour.”

Bea narrowed her eyes at the blonde's reflection and clicked on the dryer, the sound of it drowning out Allie's laughter.

////////////////////

Bea drove home later that day, barely bothered by her having to pass up closing and Debbie already being home for the day, unable to provide her with an excuse to lengthen her day and avoid Harry. She couldn't remember the last time she looked forward to lying her head on her pillow for the sole reason of rising the next day. She'd have to have a good breakfast in case Allie was serious about getting ice-cream for lunch, but this time she'd make sure to eat things that helped settle the stomach. Not that it would probably help one bit. 

She pulled into the garage, pausing when she saw Harry's car. His being home wasn't a surprise, and neither was the pain of returning to him at the end of the day. What was a surprise was the feeling of elation that was slowly becoming subdued. Bea already expected Debbie to ask her about the client lie every time they saw one another, she didn't need Harry to suspect anything more after he'd found the note. She left it at work in a drawer in her station after that day, in case something ever happened to her phone. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility, even if not purposely aimed for when Harry went into a rage. 

The thought of his rage didn't quell the sweating of her palms when thinking about the following day. Feelings that intense scared her as much as they excited her. She could no longer just detach, anticipating Debbie in her room, Harry on the couch with some snide comment on the tip of his tongue in wait. No matter what he said, or possibly did god forbid, the following day she knew her face would hurt from smiling, heart ache for someone new in her life.

With her bag on her arm, Bea got out of the car. The garage door was still squeaking behind her when she walked inside. Debbie's room door was closed with faint sounds of her voice, on the phone, Bea assumed. Harry was in the kitchen opening a beer, grunting his acknowledgment of her presence as he took a long swig. For the billionth time she wondered how she could have possibly ever loved such a barbaric man. She remembered the way Allie's hand held the small glass at the bar, the way her lips touched the top of the glass, eyes on Bea. Harry hadn't even turned away from the television. It was better for her. She almost wished his mates were there, if that didn't mean she'd have to cook. The other men being there, plates all on their laps, they tended not to notice her sneak out for bed eventually. 

She sat her back on a chair at the table and walked over to the refrigerator. Leftovers from the night before wasn't an option, so she decided to cook up something quick. Harry passed her so many times to get more beers as she prepped that she was able to relax into the process. She would make enough to take to work in case she had time to eat before appointments, and before her lunch break. 

“Mum, you're home.” Debbie looked tired. Bea hadn't heard the teen's voice for fifteen or twenty minutes, so she was sure the girl had fallen asleep. From the way she looked, that was an accurate assumption. 

Bea kissed her on the side of the head, making sure not to stop stirring the sauce in the pan as she did, despite the awkward angle. “For quite a while now. Long day?”

“So long,” Debbie said, dragging out each word. She moved to lean against a counter next to the stove, picking up pieces of the cut tomato and popping them into her mouth. “I can't wait until this school year is finally over.”

“In that much of a rush to get to university?” And away from me, Bea thought, but she didn't say it. There was no need to go there, for either one of them. 

Debbie rolled her eyes. “More like a rush to be able to take a breath. I've got a huge test tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” She picked up some ingredients to sauté, the second pan sizzling as the ingredients were tossed in. “I'm sure you'll do well.”

Typically Debbie would say she was going to do so well that Bea would swear she was some sort of genius. No matter the grades, all passing no matter what, Debbie would be happy about doing so well after putting so much effort and focus into her school work, and point out the fact that she had known she'd do well the night before. But there was no smile, and arms wrapping around her shoulders telling her not to worry because she was on it. 

“Hopefully,” Debbie said, with a shrug. She got some water and headed back to her room. “Let me know if you need some help. I'm gonna study for a while longer.”

“I'll be fine,” Bea said, watching her daughter's slow pace. She didn't turn away until she heard the click of the teen's door. That was strange, but she tried to be understanding of the stresses of a teen's life. A teen that cared about their studies, especially. It was all rather tiring for Debbie, she was sure, but they had so much to look forward to because of her dedication to school. 

By the time dinner was ready Harry had already started to doze on the couch, and to her surprise Debbie was also asleep in her bed. First she woke her daughter, which was much easier than waking Harry. Not only because Bea didn't want to touch him, but because he tended to be a pain in the ass when first waking up, even if it is to be fed. When he told her to piss off, she happily did so. Debbie seeing Harry that way didn't make her happy one bit, despite it meaning his violent tendencies wouldn't be showing themselves for the night. 

Debbie pushed her food around on her plate around. “This looks really good, Mum,” she said, contradictory to her lack of actually bringing any to her mouth. It was one of the teen's favorite dishes but one of Harry's least favorites, Bea loved it too, however.

“I'm glad,” Bea said, with a smile. “You feeling alright, sweetie?”

“Yeah,” she said, with a tired smile. “It's just this semester being all, ahhhh with the deadlines. Some people do well under pressure, others like to have a bit of space to breath, you know?”

Bea nodded. “I think I do.”

“I'm sure you do,” Debbie said. She took a few bites then, washing them down with water. “Wow. Seriously, better than ever. Did you add something new?”

“I didn't,” Bea answered, staring at her daughter for a long moment. Was she hearing what she thought she was hearing? Another person speaking to her in code. Trying to peel back the layers of what was going on in her life. “Same old recipe.”

“Hmm. Has a bit of a flare to it tonight, I think. Something's just...” She took a bite, swallowed and seemed to examine the taste left in her mouth. “Different.” 

Bea gulped. “Not sure what you mean. Tastes the same to me.” Food. They were only going to talk about food. Her eyes went to the couch. Harry grunted as he turned over, likely to be there for the night, but she couldn't really know he was asleep. “Let's finish up so you can get back to studying and go to bed early tonight. You need to be rested.”

“I doubt I'll be sleeping much tonight, but don't worry.” She said it, but she didn't look at Bea when she did, so yeah Bea was worried. Debbie went back to eating, no longer pushing around her food. It wasn't entirely abnormal for them to eat in silence, or to talk in code with Harry around, but it usually wasn't about a secret Bea was keeping from Debbie. Not that she kept secrets from Debbie after the girl had found out about how Harry actually treated her mother. 

“Thanks for the suggestion, but you're my daughter. Make sure you get some sleep, alright?” Bea said, sternly. The teen met her eyes and nodded, and then they both enjoyed having silence that didn't involve Harry looming over Bea's shoulder. They cleaned off their plates, packed up the left-overs, and Debbie promised to get some rest as she retreated back to her room. 

With Harry passed out on the couch, Bea took advantage of being able to take a long, hot shower in peace. She decided to wash her hair, taking in a deep breath so the sweet aroma filled her up. Now that smell would remind her of Allie, which she hadn't anticipated having to encounter each time she washed her hair, in the shower particularly. But what the two of them had did truly feel like a friendship after their conversation that day. A friendship that made her palms sweat or tingle, and made her eyes wander, but still. They were getting to know one another. Mostly, she was getting to know Allie. Surprised by her depth and bravado each time they spoke. Even with words unspoken and left unsaid, Bea felt like Allie was truly looking at her, understanding her silence. Most of the time. 

The problem was that she also felt desired, and couldn't help but like the fact that someone like Allie could desire her, beyond the bounds of what most considered a friendship. Allie was so beautiful, and resilient. She was funny, kind, and made Bea feel so at ease with herself. Again, she wasn't naive. The way her body warmed when Allie's eyes traced over it sent all set all sorts of panic buttons inside her mind, but she felt this pull. A bond in their struggles, and hopes for a better life. They both needed someone, for whatever reason. It was just about drawing boundaries, and keeping to them. Something that Bea typically had no problem doing, outside of Harry. She couldn't afford to lose even more control to the emotions of her situation, not because of something so new. She wasn't a child, or some hopeless romantic. Hadn't been in years. 

Yet she couldn't stop thinking about her. Thinking about how horrible Allie's life had been too, of the blonde going through the next decade-plus suffering as she held onto hope with no options, and no one to care about her. Bea's life, especially after her parents passed, had been that for so long. She didn't want that for anyone that she cared for. Not Debbie, and not Allie. But she was in no position to help anyone truly, she hadn't even helped herself.

Once she was dry, she checked that the bathroom door was locked and then pulled out her camera, staring down at the small white number one. Just one more picture and it would be full. Still no second job. If she was going to be friends with Allie, she needed to be able to stay focused on getting out of her marriage as well, and even then....having someone like the blonde in her life during a custody battle was risky enough, she could not allow her boundaries to be crossed. No.

When she went to check on Debbie, she smiled seeing the teen propped up on her elbow staring down at a textbook, mumbling about going to bed in a second – seriously. And Bea knew the teen would. Because she'd fall asleep if nothing else, if her lying down was any indication. So Bea told her she loved her, kissed her on the head, and quietly closed the teen's door. She walked over to Harry, and stood over him. Soon he would never be able to hurt her again. She'd be free. All she needed was to stay focused for a little while longer. That meant getting through her ice-cream day outing with Allie, first.

A thought that made it difficult to sleep that night, and when she did, she dreamed of Allie being at her front door. Smiling and asking if she brought her good shoes, then reaching to take her hand. It was a big day, Bea could tell, but she jolted awake before they got to wherever they were going. Her dreams were never helpful, even when pleasant. 

///////////////////////////

Despite the lack of a full night's sleep, Bea woke with a smile on her face which only grew when she heard Harry's grumbled complaints about being sore from sleeping on the couch. He was ruining the thing by lying on it so much. That didn't matter though, because she planned to throw it out when he was gone. Debbie was asleep next to the book she had been reading when Bea had checked on her the night before, the alarm on the teen's phone going off. She laughed at the sight and woke her daughter up to get ready before starting to make breakfast. 

Harry decided to stay long enough to eat with them again, but he didn't say much. Just wished Debbie good luck on her test, and reminded Bea that he preferred she closed up the shop less. It was another sports night, so her coming home late meant they'd starve since they were children, apparently. She didn't even look at him when he said it, just rolled her eyes as she took a bite of her food. He took a step towards her anyways, the floor creaking with his movement. 

Bea could not allow him to ruin their day. “Yes?” she asked, eyeing Debbie beside her. He could at least respect that the teen had a test, and Bea knew it. His walking away was not a surprise at all, but the look he gave her when he walked away let her know what the night would be like. Once the front door closed, Bea nearly growled in frustration. Mad that he had done it, he had shifted her mood. But Debbie was there. 

“Let's finish up and get dressed,” she said, offering a warm smile. Debbie returned it, but her eyes searched Bea's face for a second too long and the woman had to look away. 

It was dumb to be so excited about meeting up for ice-cream, childish even, when she had so much going on. How could she cancel though, when she could remember hearing Allie asking if it were too soon. If she were tired of her barging into Bea's life. Bea had thought similar things, and it hadn't left her feeling very good about herself until Allie showed up again, and again. She couldn't leave Allie feeling that level of insecurity after their last conversation.

As she got dressed she heard her phone vibrate on the nightstand by the bed. The number wasn't saved, but she knew it was Allie. _'Can't wait to see you. Hope you're having a good morning. Mine has been full of whining twats.'_

Bea laughed. _'Mine too. Just one though, luckily.'_ she replied. It was true. Harry was a whining twat, and it felt good to be able to say it. To think it even. _'Excited to see you too,'_ she put in quickly, pressing send fast enough to remove any doubts or questions of whether it was as forward as it felt. Having someone in her life that made her feel so old and so young at the same time was strange. 

She told Debbie that she loved her and that she'd do great, and then the next few hours were a blur. Opening the shop, interacting with her first few clients, it all involved doing stuff and listening to people say things, but none of it had been taken in. Her mind bounced between being totally excited and Allie filled, not helped by the blonde texting her a few more times, to the cold look in Harry's eyes that morning. Her nerves were fried, and misfiring. First ice-cream, then she'd go home, cook and go take the camera in.

“Bea, that woman is here. Again.”

She turned around with her arms crossed, lips fighting the smile on her lips. “Really?” she asked. 

“I told you I would. Every time.” Allie put her hands in the pockets of her light jacket. “Come on, then. I want my full hour.”

Bea grabbed her rectangular wallet and keys from her bag, and headed out, ducking her head to ignore her coworkers watching her leave. “Be back soon,” she said. Allie held the door open for her, which she gave her a look for, knowing the woman was aware of the prying eyes of the women inside. “You minx.”

“I hope that wasn't supposed to be one of your revenge insults,” Allie teased. “Sure you don't mind driving? We could walk, but we'd pretty much have to grab it and immediately start heading back if we did. I'd still get my full hour, but that wouldn't be much of a break for you.”

She stared at the blonde's face for a moment. “Were you rambling just then?”

Allie laughed. “No. Just putting that out there before we take off. Get in the car.”

They continued to poke fun at each other on the way, mostly about their differences in taste in music. Not that Bea needed more of a reminder of their age difference. Luckily they got there pretty quickly, and were able to park pretty close considering the traffic in the area. Unfortunately, Bea had a hard time picking a flavor.

“And you still picked the most unoriginal one in there,” Allie teased as they sat outside at a small table.

“Mint-chocolate chip is pretty original if you ask me.” She laughed at Allie's fake gag. “Have you ever even tried it?”

“Not a huge fan of mint, so, no,” Allie answered before circling her tongue around her top scoop. “Time was ticking, Bea,” she said, with ice-cream in her mouth. She had gotten pistachio-pineapple. They were equally grossed out by the others' choice. “Mm, oh my god. This place.”

It did look pretty good, Bea had to admit. What wasn't good was her reaction to watching Allie's tongue drag along the curve of her ice-cream. She turned back to her own, wondering if she looked just as obscene while eating ice cream. Doubtful. But still. She cut her eyes towards Allie and wondered, would the blonde happen to find herself watching her as well?

She hesitated before taking her first taste. “Wow,” Bea said, the crunch of a piece of chocolate adding so much flavor she was sure it was sinful to be so good. “This is amazing.” 

“Told you. Perfect timing too,” Allie said, taking another lick. “I think ice cream is always better when it's not as hot outside, don't you?”

“I don't really have it that often,” Bea answered. 

“Do you deny yourself everything?” Allie asked. “Ice cream should be an essential in life. At least some frozen yogurt if you're one of those people. Health fads,” she scoffed. “If I don't suddenly become permanently lactose intolerant, there's no way I'll ever stop.”

Bea laughed. “That happens, you know.”

Allie narrowed her eyes, sticking her tongue out for a moment. “Go ahead and make fun. Doesn't phase me one bit. I'm here to give you a lesson on the finer things in life, I figure. Booze, friends, and ice cream. Just don't mix them all together. Unless...” she waggled her eyebrows. 

“Unless you want them to throw up all over the place?” asked flatly. 

Allie made a face of disgust. “Alright, that's not an image I wanted of you in my head right now. But I'd hold your hair back, promise.”

“My hero.”

“Damn straight.”

“That's not what you told me last time,” Bea said, between licks. When Allie didn't say anything in return, she turned to see the woman looking down at her, and regretted the fact that they had sat side by side so they could, 'people watch,' according to Allie. The smirk was there, but subtle, eyes mischievous. “What?” she asked, the silence unbearable under that stare. 

“You're flirting with me,” Allie said. 

Bea scoffed a bit too quickly, she knew it. “Am not.”

A few more moments of staring, then she winked. “Sure,” she said, finally turning away. A second later she reached for Bea's cone. “Give it here, I'm gonna try it.”

“Hey,” Bea said, reaching after it laughing, but it was too late. Allie took a long, dramatic lick and handed it back. “Thought you said you don't care for mint.”

Elbows on the table, Allie smiled but didn't turn to look at Bea as she spoke, focusing back on her ice cream.“Yeah.” Lick. “But it's yours, and you were making it look _so_ good.”

Bea opened her mouth to say something but realized she could think of nothing as a response to that. Her eyes turned to the ice cream in her hand, where Allie's tongue had just swiped across it. She hadn't realized just how intently she'd been staring until Allie's elbow bumped hers. 

“Better hurry,” the blonde said. “Hour's almost up.”

It was up much sooner than Bea anticipated. After making jabs about musical taste again the whole way back, they finally found themselves standing outside of Bea's work. She was technically five minutes late but she didn't have an appointment for another fifteen minutes, which Allie told her meant she wasn't really late at all. Figures she'd think that way. 

“This was fun. Thank you,” Bea said, smiling. The sun's warmth adding to the warmth Bea felt inside. Allie was staring down at her again, and standing entirely too close as usual. She couldn't bring herself to move back. “Who knew ice cream could be so amazing?” she asked, nervously.

“Lots of people,” Allie said, smoothly. She started to take another step forward but a customer, muttering excuse me but still rudely, walked between them to get inside. Allie looked annoyed for only a moment before looking back to Bea with that intense gaze again. “I should probably go.”

“Probably,” Bea managed. She cleared her throat. “I've gotta get back to work.”

Allie touched the sleeve of her shirt, moving it between her fingers, and then let go. “See you later, Bea.”

“Bye,” Bea said, watching the woman back up a few steps with a smile on her face before she turned around and crossed the street. She watched the blonde until she couldn't see her any more and then went inside, a lump in her throat. “What am I doing?” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, that's all folks. This is just part one under this title because I cut a scene out to keep the tone here instead of going....kinda dark. So, here's to another happy ending! And to the drama being amped-up quite a bit next time! Also, unless I keep adding more scenes, or splitting chapters up, this may be a shorter fic than I thought it would be (not too short though). Hope that's okay. Thanks again for reading :) Please drop a comment if you have the time, and like to rhyme. Or if you don't. That's cool too.


	4. The Messes We Are, the Messes We Make Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conclusion to Pt. 1 of this chapter/Bea's world continues to give her lemons but no lemonade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So, I'm early once again, and this time by a few days -- that's what's up. Really grateful for all the great feedback for this fic. You are all amazing, and really provide just the right amount of encouragement to push me past the anxiety of starting each chapter. My lovely beta is busy officiating a wedding like the beast that she is, so she was only able to look over a fraction of this chapter, but still...many thanks! I hope you all really enjoy this conclusion to (technically) the third chapter, it was a bitch to write but fun as usual. Cheers!

Chapter Four: The Messes We Are, the Messes We Make Pt.2 

“What am I doing?” she whispered. Bea walked inside of the shop, touching the sleeve of her shirt as she walked past the front desk. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that Jo, the woman who worked the desk, giving her a strange look but she couldn't handle that at the moment. She rushed over to her station, placed her hand on the counters in front of the mirror, and took a few deep breaths. She was flushed. Nothing happened, she told herself. They just got ice-cream. 

All they did was drive up the street, make fun of each others' taste in music, and burst into laughter when Allie rapped out the verse of some ridiculous song and tried to get Bea to join in. She remembered the eye rolls Allie threw her way as she took forever choosing a flavor. Then there was everything that happened once they sat down to eat their ice-cream. She was sure friends didn't feel a tickling warmth climb though their abdomen like she had, watching Allie take those first few tastes of the odd concoction the blonde had chosen, or stare down at their own for god knows how like she had after Allie had stolen a taste. Those feelings were so foreign to her. She felt childish. But she couldn't ignore the quickening of her pulse or the way her mouth had watered at the sight. 

The blonde was right, they had been flirting. Both of them. More importantly, Bea had been and she'd liked it. She was excited by the thought of the Allie wanting her, even if nothing ever came of it. It was just getting harder to know whether she wanted something to happen, or not. Truly, the blonde didn't know anything about her, and she didn't know all that much about her either. Being so drawn to someone, and with everything that was going on in her life was so unexpected, and careless– but that's what made it so magnetic. All she'd had was Debbie, her plan, and her work. Nothing and no one else. No, she hadn't been happy but she had been working towards that happiness. Happiness that would have involved being single in every way for the foreseeable future. Not that she wanted to jump into a relationship all of a sudden, because that was crazy, wasn't it? She didn't know. She didn't know what she wanted, or what she was feeling, and that was the problem. 

“Bea, your client is here. You ready?” Jo asked, in an accusing tone no less. 

How long had she been standing there? “Uh, just one sec. Almost,” she said, gathering a few things and stowing away a few others. Her palms were annoyingly sweaty again, so she decided to wash them, and then called the woman over. “Sorry about that. Lost track of time,” she said, then she was back to barely listening to her clients again, her mind wandering back over the details of her 'lunch' with Allie. The way they said goodbye. Allie staring down at her as they stood beside the steps. 

“Was that your phone? I think it's gone off a few times in your bag there,” her client said, nicely thank goodness. It was one of Bea's oldest clients, a woman who tended to talk about her grandchildren when she stopped in. 

Bea hadn't heard the vibrations in her bag, but when it went off again she apologized and checked it in case it was Debbie. But no. Of all people, it was Allie. 

_'I had a great time,'_ the first message said, and Bea wondered if friends messaged each other saying they had a great time each time they hung out. That could be normal, she thought, but again her heart was pounding and her damn palms! _'Pretty sure you were flirting with me, but what's a bit of flirting between “friends”?'_ Definitely not normal.

_'Me too. Still don't know what you're talking about though. Working now.'_ She put the phone back in her bag and went back to trimming her client's hair. When it went off again she didn't check it, choosing instead to finish the quick job and check it during her bit of time between her last two clients of the day. It started to vibrate continuously. A phone call. Luckily, she was on the last two snips and could cut them easily, apologizing again as she went to answer her phone.

The number wasn't one she recognized. Allie wouldn't do that, surely. “Hello?” she said, hesitantly. Michelle was watching her, she noticed, and so she turned her back to the other woman's station.

“Is this Bea Smith?”

It was a woman's voice, one she didn't recognize. 

“Yes, this is Bea Smith.” Her application with the market popped up into her mind and she started to smile at the thought of more pieces of her life falling into place, but it wasn't a manager calling to give her a job. 

“I'm one of Debbie's teachers, Ms. Mitchell,” the woman said, her voice gentle but unsure. “Earlier today Debbie had an exam, I don't know if she told you.”

“She did, yes. Um, just one moment, please.” Bea put her phone on mute and told her client it was about her daughter, which she knew the older woman would understand. In fact, the woman gave her a larger tip than usual and said she'd sign up for her next appointment up front since she would be out of town for a while, freeing Bea up to talk on the phone. She glared at Michelle, knowing the woman was still watching her, and walked over to a far wall. “Sorry about that. I'm still at work.”

“No, I should have thought about that. Of course, you're at work. Debbie's told me how hard you work as a hairdresser.”

Bea found that almost funny, considering the things Harry has said about it in their house over the years. “Is something wrong?” she asked, thinking about the man and their home situation. She always worried about her daughter, how she was handling things, what she was thinking.

“Well, she didn't do well on her exam today, which is very strange for Debbie. She's one of my best students, so I hope I'm not overstepping by giving you a call. I'm just a bit worried about her,” the woman rambled. She took a few breaths. “The last few classes she's just seemed...tired and distracted.”

“You're not overstepping,” Bea said, gripping her phone tightly. She had seen Debbie was tired over the last few days, a bit longer maybe. It happened sometimes. When things got rough at home the teen did tend to disappear into her room more, and go to bed as early as possible. “Thank you for letting me know.” She paused. “Have you called H-Harry?” 

“I haven't, no. I thought it was best if I talked to you instead.”

Bea didn't ask why. “Is there anything she needs to do? To fix the grade, or gain extra points?” she asked, instead. 

“I'll discuss that with Debbie next class, when she gets the grade back. Next time we will start the next section of our textbook, and things will only going to get harder and more demanding, so I thought it was best that I call you now.”

“Thank you, again. Truly. You caring so much means a lot. To her as well, I'm sure.” There was no one else there to help her with Debbie most of the time. Harry wasn't mean to his daughter, but he wasn't very attentive or affectionate either. He didn't go out of his way to spend time with her, or try to help her with her school work. It was just Bea doing it all.

“Debbie's a good girl. Keep an eye on her,” Ms. Mitchell said. “Take care.”

“You too,” Bea said, hanging up. She saw that she had two messages, one from Allie and one from Debbie. Of course she opened Debbie's first, especially after the conversation she had just had with the teen's teacher.

_'Asked Dad if I could stay at Ronnie's. Hope that's alright. Not sure about the test, crossing my fingers. Much love.'_

That was strange. Her list of incoming calls didn't include Debbie for the day and that was the first message she had received from her all day. She'd only asked Harry? Sure, the man always demanded that she ask him anyways even after Bea said yes, but to not ask Bea at all...There wasn't much time to reflect over it though, because her next client was walking in. She clicked Allie's message and read over it quickly. 

_'You do know that your pretending you don't know you're flirting is also flirting, right? Can't deny yourself everything forever, Bea. Friend to friend.'_

Bea decided not to respond until later. She needed to think. Part of her wanted to message Debbie and tell her that she needed to come home, but the teen didn't know about the grade yet from what her teacher said, and if Bea was right and it was their home life getting to the teen then it wouldn't be right to call her home. She thought back to the way Harry had looked at her that morning. No, this was her problem she needed to handle. And she would. Debbie slipping in school would be addressed, for sure, but not on a night where she'd only be pushed further into the drama of her parents' marriage. 

The rest of the shift flew by, and since she wasn't closing up there was no need to stay once her last client walked out the door. Rushing home to cook for, and clean behind Harry and his mates wasn't a more appealing end to her day, in any way. Debbie wouldn't be home to hold and kiss, and promise everything would be okay. There would just be Harry and his looming violence, until his mates left and he did whatever he'd probably been thinking of doing to her all day. The thought made her stomach turn. 

As soon as she was in her car her phone went off again. Allie. Such a huge contrast in what her husband evoked within her versus what Allie made her feel. The woman was joking around still. _'Too smitten to reply?'_ the message asked. 

Bea laughed in spite of how she felt after talking to Debbie's teacher, to her amazement. Her fingers moved to type a response, but she stopped and took a moment. She sat back in her seat and thought about Allie talking to her about her parents, then responded as honestly as she could. _'Family problems actually.'_

A few minutes passed, then another message came in. _'You're off work already?'_ it read. Bea responded with a simple yes and suddenly her phone was ringing, and it was Allie calling. 

“Everything alright?” the blonde asked, her voice full of concern.

Bea let out the breath she had been holding, leaning forward to put her forehead on her steering-wheel. “I'm not sure,” she answered. 

She heard some ruffling sounds for a second. “Okay,” Allie said, drawing the word out. Bea could tell the blonde struggle to say whatever it was that was coming next, her breathing indicating that she started to speak two three times before she got it out. “Are you hurt?”

The question threw Bea off. She sat up slowly, free hand squeezing the steering-wheel. “Debbie's teacher called me.”

Allie's sigh in relief was okay if she was asking about what Bea thought was asking about. Her daughter making a bad grade was not something to be relieved about, but if Allie knew about Harry and thought....then the sigh in relief made sense. She didn't understand though. Nothing she'd said about Harry specifically pointed towards him being physically abusive, she was sure. She'd learned to be careful about that a long time ago.

“What's going on?” Allie asked, shaking her from her thoughts. “She okay?”

“She didn't do well on an exam.” And she's been down lately and not just tired like Bea had thought, but she didn't say that. Those words could lead to questions that couldn't just be explained away with teenage hormones, or difficulties with her studies, unless Bea lied. She didn't want to lie to Allie. She didn't want to paint some fake picture over her life. “Her teacher just wanted to let me know. I'm probably just being one of those silly mothers that worry too much,” she said, laughing at herself, but it was obviously forced. 

“Don't do that,” Allie said. “You're a good mum, Bea.”

How could Allie think that if she knew? It was Bea's fault that the teen's life had only gotten worse. Hers and Harry's. Whose fault it was the most at that point she sometimes wondered, but she understood that abusers did that. They made you think you were the one at fault. She wasn't completely blind to his games, which was why she had started her plan to leave him, and how she could even think in such a direction. 

“I could be better.”

“A better person? Sure. We all could, but you're a better mum than many. Trust me.” There was more ruffling, this time louder. “Look, I have to be somewhere in a few minutes. You going to be alright?”

Bea nodded despite the blonde not being around. “I'm fine, really.”

“You're a terrible liar,” Allie scoffed. “Call me later if you need anything. I won't be working all night tonight.” 

The thought of Allie's work didn't ease Bea's mind at all. “You be careful,” she said. 

“Righto. I'm serious about you calling me,” Allie added.

Bea swallowed hard. “Alight. If I need anything, I'll call.”

//////////////////////

The house was completely quiet when she got home. She knew Debbie wouldn't be there, but she expected Harry and his coworkers to already be there working on one of the many beers they would ingest throughout the night. Bea had stopped and got a few things at the market closer to her house, thinking the men would already be whinging about the things that they needed. Well, Harry anyways. His friends tended to say very little to her, which made it all the better as they ate the meal she cooked and drank the beer she picked up for them after working for hours. 

She decided to get everything ready anyways, expecting them to walk in at any moment. It was bad enough when she didn't have what she needed to cook, but having the necessary ingredients and still not having the meal ready was so much worse in Harry's eyes. How dare she take a moment to breath when she got off of work. Fortunately she needed to stay busy anyways. The day was beginning to drag on. First she was in a great mood, then Harry was all threatening, then there was ice cream with Allie, and then Debbie's teacher calling before Allie called, hurrah. Cooking in silence allowed her to relax. Her mind still wandered through the details of the day, and she jumped at the sound of a few car doors closing, but after forty-five minutes or so she felt a little better. 

Her phone went off on the counter beside her. 'Watching the match at the bar.' It was a miracle he even messaged Bea to let her know. She frowned, noting that he hadn't sent her any sort of considerate message to her, well, ever. 

Bea finished cooking and made herself a plate. She went into Debbie's room for a moment, sitting on the bed that was covered in clothes in that moment. Typically her daughter's room was practically spotless. All of the signs were there. Debbie wasn't immune to what happened between her parents, Bea knew that. It had just been so long since the girl had hit a low point like that. Then again, things had been picking up with Harry a lot more before he and his mates started hanging out so much, and even then there had been a few tense moments. A couple of violent ones that the teen hadn't been a witness to, thank goodness.

The food on her plate was still hot when she sat down, and she was grateful. Good meals after a long day, she imagined, were nice for ordinary families. Ones that didn't have people like Harry in them, ruining every second with their unpredictable rage. 

“We should have ice-cream for dessert,” Bea suddenly imagined Allie saying, sitting across from her, fork in hand. The blonde would probably want to keep ice-cream on hand. Some weird flavor only she'd really care to eat, but they'd all eventually fall for. All being....

Knowing the food was hot didn't stop her from burning her tongue on her next bite. She let her fork drop and rubbed her forehead. There was too much going on. And yet not enough at the same time. Would being alone be as perfect and peaceful as she'd imagined, or would she be even more alone? Debbie wouldn't be there for much longer. Having a friend would be nice. But her friendship with Allie was dangerous, mostly because it refused to remain in the realms of a simple friendship. Whatever that meant, Bea wasn't sure. 

“You don't know what you're talking about, mate. It's not like that at all,” Harry's voice projected loudly as he and the guys walked in. They all stopped talking when they noticed Bea sitting at the table, Harry looking somewhat surprised to see her there. “You didn't respond to my message.”

“Didn't think I needed to,” she said, honestly. Typically interactions like the one they'd had that morning led to Bea trying to be on her best behavior. She'd get home at a decent time, make sure dinner was ready, and that the house was clean. The last few weeks though she'd been pushing his buttons to get him to react. Now she wondered if that had been the worse idea she'd ever come up with. “Dinner's ready, if you're hungry.”

The men grumbled their thanks, except for Harry who walked up beside her and looked over his shoulder and elbowed her in her side pretty harshly. “Your family not important enough to respond to now, eh? First you missed Debbie's call, now mine. No wonder she called me to ask about staying at Ronnie's. You're a shit mum.”

Nothing out of the ordinary there. Him having real examples to point to was new, she'd realized, but after years of blaming herself for everything he actually did wrong, or caused to happen in their lives, she wasn't phased. Nevertheless, her being distracted by Allie since they'd met had already been weighing down on her since Debbie's teacher had called, and she found herself wondering if it was her fault and if she had truly stopped paying attention. 

“Figured you wouldn't hear my message come in, in a bar anyways,” she said, watching the man closely. Had she missed something? He was playing more head games since she'd missed Debbie's phone call, and since he'd found Allie's number. But he wasn't one for subtleties, or waiting things out for long. She was confused. Had he suddenly become interested in the long game?

“I don't give a damn about what you figured,” he said, grabbing her right wrist. 

His grip on it was tight enough to leave a bruise, and Bea thought about the fact that part of her had been welcoming such encounters for evidence. What kind of sane person thought in such ways? She had for years by that point, only for nothing to come of it. This time was going to be different, she'd sworn to herself, but nothing at home had gone in the direction she wanted. Except, she did still have good evidence of continued abuse. Other than her daughter being a witness to it, or her gossiping coworkers. 

“Next time I'll respond,” Bea said, and she was almost positive she wouldn't. 

Looking down at his hand wrapped around her whole wrist and then some, she thought about the fact that their whole marriage had worked that way. He had taken her whole being into his hands and tightened his grip until she'd felt stuck and then paralyzed for a while, she was so tired of struggling. There were times when she hadn't struggled. But looking at him then, she didn't feel entirely paralyzed. She was afraid, and shaking against her will, but she didn't cower. Her eyes turned to his friends, and he looked too just in time to see the two men he brought turn away a second too late for it not to be obvious.

“Later then?” she asked, daring him to move as her heart slammed against her ribs. 

The moment he let go, Bea walked back to her bedroom and closed the door. She leaned against the wood, clenching her fingers into a fist and then relaxing them over and over in attempts of easing the tightness in them. They'd ached to reach out towards him, but to do what, Bea wasn't sure. He was ruining everything. Debbie's life, her life. He didn't deserve either one of them, or the home cooked meals, or the pieces of her that he'd stolen over the years. All of her hopes and desires, and what it felt like to have them. Now it all came rushing back to her so fiercely that she couldn't separate those feelings from the hate, fear, and anticipation. Her shoulders felt tight, hands stiff, legs wound up. She began to pace to try to relieve the tension.

That's when her phone had to go off, of course. And predictably, it was Allie asking if she was alright. Bea fought the urge to either throw the phone across the room or pull it to her chest. She stared down at it, blinking hard when a question mark popped up in the same thread. Her fingers moved in inaccurate bursts, tapping the wrong letters on the screen, then she finally managed to finish and press send. 

_'I need you to stop checking up on me,'_ she'd said, and Allie's reply was almost immediate. A simple question of, _'Why?'_ Bea felt angered by it nonetheless. Her mind was jumbled. She just wanted a moment to breath and let go of it all. There was no way she could do that with Harry around, but Allie didn't make things any clearer. Not really, anyways.

Allie's calling her when she was leaving the shop earlier had moved her. No one, absolutely no one outside of Debbie called to check up on her. When her mother passed there was no one there for her to turn to when Harry went too far, and even when Debbie hit that age that she truly realized what was going on, the girl had been hesitant. Afraid. Bea could see that Debbie had wondered if Harry would turn his anger towards her if she acknowledged what he was doing, and Bea had worried about the same thing. She still did. Now there was someone else who cared though, and Bea could feel that concern, and need for her to be okay even from afar. 

_'He been snooping through your phone?'_ If he had, surely that kind of question was then pointless. 

_'No,'_ she responded, leaving out the fact that she also deletes every message as soon as they come in, in case he did ever walk in or get his hands on her phone somehow. 

_'Then no. Sorry, Bea. We've shared ice-cream so you're stuck with me forever, friend'_

Bea stared at the word friend for a long time, her mind doing that stupid thing where it played the word repeatedly through her head in Allie's voice. Her thumb suddenly pressed the call button. It only rung once before Allie picked up. “Where are you?” Bea asked. 

“Wherever you need me to be,” Allie answered. 

They were going to meet at the bar they'd gone to already, by the shop. It had been years since Bea had even thought about sneaking out to avoid Harry, and even longer since she'd actually had the nerve to leave instead of crawling into a corner to wait. In the beginning she had done that a lot. Body trembling, she'd wrap her arms around her legs and cry in fear. That wasn't going to happen this time.

When she poked her head into the living room and saw all the men focused entirely on the television, she stepped back around the corner to take a few deep breaths. There was no good way to get the car out without him hearing and she knew it, but if she could just get out and stay gone long enough, then he'd be asleep by the time she got home and tomorrow she'd end it. Really end it, unlike all the other times she'd thought of leaving him. This time had to be different. 

She walked to the garage as fast as possible, jumping when the men suddenly began to yell at whatever player that fucked up, then she went into the garage and got into her car. “Start the car, Bea,” she said to herself as her hand shook holding the keys. With a grunt she pushed it in and turned the engine, smacked her hand against the garage opener and put the car into gear. Her eyes kept bouncing from the door to the her rear-view mirror, half expecting to see Harry's angry face suddenly there demanding that she get back inside. It wasn't until she backed the car all the way out that she saw him, face shadowed as he stared out the window, but she didn't stop. At that point she couldn't. Going back in would mean a guaranteed encounter, no chance of escaping it. She'd find herself in that corner in her room, stuck there for hours behind invisible walls.

///////////////////////

The drive was a blur. She saw Harry's name flash on her phone three or four times, but it only made her grip the wheel harder, and drive faster. On the phone Bea had told Allie she'd park closer to the shop again, that way parking was not a problem at all, so the blonde was already waiting for her. She was leaning against the wall of the end building, foot propped up against it, hands in her pocket. Bea hadn't thought her heart could beat any faster, but it did then. 

Allie was smiling but her eyes trailed over Bea without the usual sexual bravado, like she was looking for something she didn't find. Probably because Bea was wearing a sweater and jeans, as usual. “All set?” Allie asked. 

Bea nodded, and they began to walk. “Thanks for meeting me,” she said, a few feet away from the bar. “I don't know what I would have done if I'd had to stay there any longer.”

“It's no problem. There's no place else I'd rather be,” Allie said. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Her body still felt tense, and the image of Harry standing in the window watching her kept pushing itself forward, but she could at least breath again. Each time she allowed her eyes to land on Allie she felt that warmth in her gut building. The fear, anger, and fatigue was still there but it was manageable as they walked together. 

“We could go somewhere quieter, if you'd like,” Allie offered. “Somewhere friend friendly.”

“No,” Bea laughed. “This will be fine. I could use a drink.”

“Well, there you go. I'm really starting to rub off on you, eh?” 

The bar was busier than the last few times they'd gone, and Bea realized it was the weekend so it made sense. People typically looked forward to the weekend. They'd spend time with their family, their friends. Have a few laughs, take a small trip. Bea and Debbie may have been able to manage a few moments to themselves, after her shifts, to relax and laugh together but the teen had started to find more reasons to be gone on the weekend over the years. A normal occurrence that Bea embraced despite the added loneliness she'd had to deal with because of it. 

Allie managed to find them a table, shifting her chair so she sat beside Bea instead of across from her. “Same as last time to start off?” she asked, before ordering for the both of them. “How did things go with Debbie?”

Starting with Debbie was good. Forming whole sentences became easier when she thought about her daughter. Usually she'd find herself going on about how amazing her daughter was, how kind and focused. “She's at a friends.” Bea wouldn't have left had Debbie been at home, no matter how much Harry threatened her. She was always afraid that his anger would be redirected at Debbie, and therefore tried to leave them alone as little as possible. “Doesn't even know about her score yet.”

“Wow. That's kind of messed up.” Their drinks were brought over and Allie clanked their glasses together. “Cheers to a fucked up life.”

Bea laughed and took a drink. “None of your toasts are very positive.”

“I try to be a realist,” Allie said with a shrug. She stared down at the table, both of her hands on her glass. “Was worried about you.”

“I know,” Bea said. She took a drink. “I'm okay though.”

“Yeah, but you could not be one day, if...” Her voice trailed off, and Bea found herself leaning forward a little, as if the words were being whispered. But Allie shook her head and her smile was back in place. She still wasn't making as much eye contact as she usually did, typically trying to get Bea to do the same. “Friends worry.”

Bea actually understood that all too well. They hadn't even been friends for long and Allie being a prostitute had her wondering if the blonde made it home safely at night, or if it was ended up being a horrible night for her, like the ones the blonde mentioned that night after Bea'd found out. Bea didn't want to admit that she worried too, though. That it had kept her up longer than she'd liked a few nights. 

“It means a lot,” Bea admitted. Allie shifted in her chair and Bea's eyes fell to a bruise on the woman's hip peeking out from underneath her shirt. “How was, uh, w-work?” she asked, stumbling over the question. Allie laughed slightly, making Bea blush inappropriately. “Is that how you ask someone that question, if they do what you do?”

“You can, sure. I mean it is my job. Not sure people really want to hear that sort of play-by-play, but it's nice to be asked, I suppose.” She let go of the glass in her hands, lifting her shirt slightly. “Part of the job for the both of us, eh?”

“Always with the jokes,” Bea said, staring at the dark spot on Allie's otherwise pale smooth skin. Her eyes began to trail along the edge of the shirt where it wrapped around to Allie's front, but she managed to look away. “At least you get paid for it when it happens,” she said a few moments later, laughing into her drink. It wasn't funny, they both knew it and yet there they were. 

“Most of the time.”

Bea looked to Allie's face, but the blonde didn't turn to look at her like Bea thought she would. Allie was looking across the room instead, a sort of distance in her eyes. It was then that Bea realized they were a bit glossy, and there was a bit of darkness underneath them. More like the first night they met.“You always make sure to be safe, right?”

“As in protection?” Allie asked, glancing over. “Of course. I'm as safe as you can be, outside of testing each client and waiting a few weeks before doing anything. I do get tested regularly myself though.”

Swallowing hard, Bea forced herself to look away to ask the next question. “And n-needles?”

“Nah. Figured I'd never be able to turn back if I went that far, not that I'm doing such a great job of it now. You going to ask about my prices next?” Allie asked, taking a drink. Her smile grew as the liquid passed her lips. “What you're asking me, if they're smart, is the same thing a potential client does before we take off to do the deed. Or deeds.” Those glossy eyes slid to her then, tired but more playful like usual. 

Bea had an actual reason to blush then, her mind getting hung up by the idea of what Allie was saying, but the suggestion of it being in exchange from money was cringe worthy. Not because of the profession itself, but because they were at least friends and friends didn't buy sex from other friends. Things hadn't changed that much since she was younger, surely. One thing that hadn't changed was people using humor in the way Allie was in that moment, but she understood and let it go.

They both did, for a while. Sitting and laughing with Allie about her roommates going through her things, and bursting water manes at her first shit place ruining her whole wardrobe, Bea felt happier than she'd thought possible. Allie was so strong. She could laugh at the shiftiness of her life, and press on all without losing her sense of humor. Her sense of self. The blonde doubted that about herself, Bea could hear it in the small spinets of self criticism slipping in here and there, but as bad as Bea's life was, she couldn't imagine surviving Allie's. Without Debbie, she wasn't sure where she'd be. Debbie had been her reason to live so many times over the years, but Allie didn't have a daughter, or parents that gave a damn when she wasn't who they wanted her to be. Bea felt a certain strength being around Allie that she could only think came from that part of Allie that was able to persevere. All that tenacity, and how unapologetic she was, because fuck whoever judged her without knowing shit about her life, and screw that client who thought she'd be his bitch for free, somehow it made Bea feel more liberated. 

“That's the thing, you know. They just want to take everything away from you,” Allie said, after ordering another drink. Bea was only on her second, but she was pretty sure Allie was on number three soon to be four. Sure as in, Bea had been keeping counting. “No way. I've been doing this long enough to know how to separate the two, you know?” Allie asked.

Bea was laughing because the topic had turned back to sex, which she found less and less surprising when it came to Allie. Every few topics or twists in conversation and the blonde would give her a certain look, a wink, touch her hand for a microsecond. Then longer, and longer. It was easier to laugh, because the alternative would probably be a flustered silence. 

“You're also very young,” Bea pointed out. She frowned, tilting her head slightly. “Wait, how old are you?”

Allie laughed. “I probably shouldn't answer that question. People say it doesn't matter, but that's a crock of shit. I'm serious though,” Allie continued. “Before I moved into the Thunderdome, if any client roughed me up, I figured the best revenge was to take it back. Make sure those assholes didn't ruin my sexuality for me.”

“Is everything about sex with you?” Bea asked, taking a large swallow of her drink. The glass was almost empty.

“Not everything,” Allie said, watching Bea's every move. “But, sometimes it is just what you need to....feel grounded again.” She turned in her chair so she was facing Bea, abandoning her drink all together. The blonde's movement made Bea squirm in her seat, the lessening space unexpected. Typically she hated being that close to anyone other than her daughter, and did all that she could to avoid even accidentally touching anyone around her. Allie started slowly inching the fingers of her right hand toward Bea's on top of the table, holding her fingers just above Bea's.

It was hard for Bea not to move away the instant she felt the tip of Allie's middle finger graze over knuckles. Her fingers twitched and jumped. She couldn't breath. For some reason she'd thought being in a public place would help with all of that. 

“When everything else is spinning out, it's one of the things that you can control, and if you allow yourself to feel something so intensely for just one moment...” Allie's voice trailed off, and finally letting her hand rest on Bea's. What Bea didn't expect at all was for the blonde to slowly push the sleeve of her shirt up, fingers tickling the skin there. “Then you're free.” The bruise around Bea's wrist was already turning that deep shade of purple. “He likes to grab you here,” Allie said, gently touching it.

Bea's mouth opened and closed but she couldn't say anything. She could only feel Allie's fingers on her wrist, the tightness in her chest as she tried to breath, and the building warmth that was so unfamiliar to her until Allie came along. 

“People like them need that roughness and control, but other people, like you,” Allie said, meeting Bea's eyes for a second before focusing back on her hand as her fingers began to slide past Bea's wrist. “You need a sort of gentle release. A slow unraveling.”

She wasn't just warm anymore and soon, she was sure, it wouldn't just be her palms that were sweating if Allie kept trailing her fingers any higher. Sex really wasn't her thing, and it never had been, so she never thought about what she needed or wanted in that department. But according to Allie it wasn't sex that Bea had felt so disconnected with, that was something entirely different. What she was feeling in that moment, Allie's fingers on her skin, that was what sex was about and Allie was right. It wasn't just in her body that she craved the blonde's touch, it was her mind. That was what kept thoughts of Allie rising to the surface even when the blonde wasn't around. Her body was just catching up to it.

Sexual desires that she'd heard of but never understood were suddenly alive within her, and her mind wondered what Allie's fingers would feel like elsewhere. Along her neck, her sides, her thighs. And those thoughts didn't scare her or make her skin crawl. She watched Allie's fingers stop at at the base of her bicep. 

“That's what makes this so weird,” Bea thought, aloud. 

“What's weird?” Allie asked.

Their eyes met. “You being able to talk about this so easily,” Bea answered. She forced herself to take another swallow of her drink, trying to wash down the partial lie, because the fact that she knew she wanted something still didn't change the fact that she didn't know the what's or how's. Those are the thoughts that scared her then. She slowly moved to take another drink.

Allie's fingers didn't stop moving along Bea's arm. She could see the blonde's watching her out of the corner of her eye, blue eyes moving from her lips and eyes repeatedly as the cold liquid hit Bea's tongue.

“That's not the only thing I could easily do.”

Bea choked. Some of her drink sputtered from between her lips, and somehow she found herself laughing. Not a small, quiet laugh either, but a laugh so hard that her gut hurt where just a few seconds before it felt like she was in a roller coaster cart at the highest peak of the ride. 

“I thought that would work,” Allie said, smiling. She sat back and picked up her drink, but didn't seem phased by what had happened. The amused glint in her eye didn't lessen the fact that she was still leering.

“It probably should've,” Bea admitted. “Pretty fucked up, I guess.” It was her life she was talking about, but she felt that didn't need to be explained.

Allie held her glass out towards Bea. “Back to making asses out of ourselves, then?”

“The night wouldn't be complete without it,” Bea said, clanking their glasses together. She finished her own drink, and listened to Allie talk some more as finished hers . She herself couldn't say much because Allie's hand had eventually landed back on her arm, toying with her sleeve up until the moment they got up to leave. Even then, as they walked towards where Bea had parked, Allie's fingers kept grazing her own and the blonde said nothing about it, never acknowledged it. That made it easier for Bea to relax, as Allie had probably figured out. 

“How long have you been married?” 

“Since I was eighteen,” Bea said. A horrible truth. 

Allie didn't say anything else until they were at Bea's car. “You don't owe him anything. Not you, or Debbie.” She reached for Bea's hands, running her fingers across Bea's palms as she raised their hands together to intertwine their fingers.

The blonde took a step forward, but Bea couldn't look up and allow herself to get stuck in the searching eyes. She watched their fingers instead, felt the changing pressures there, her pulse in throbbing in her fingers. 

“I'm right here, Bea,” Allie said, dipping her head and forcing Bea to look at her. 

She felt a pain in her chest, and squeezed her eyes shut because it was all too much. The feeling of Allie's nose touching hers sent a shiver through her. “I shouldn't.”

“Shouldn't,” Allie whispered. “Or don't want to? Be brave, Bea.” 

Bea finally opened her eyes, first staring into Allie's darkened ones and then dropping to those full, inviting lips. “Allie,” she whispered against them. Then they were on hers. They were softer than she imagined, pulling her in closer. Bea whimpered as their lips moved together, that pain in her chest amplifying, all the warmth dropping lower within her as their fingers slid across one another, squeezing, and releasing. The pounding in her ears did nothing to block out the sounds of Allie's sighs and their mixed heavy breathing. She wanted more, but they had to pull back. 

They pressed their foreheads together, closed their eyes and relished in the sensations. “You're shaking,” Allie breathed. 

“I know,” Bea smiled, then she leaned back in. 

//////////////////////

Bea smiled all the way home, replaying the whole thing in her mind. They hadn't been able to break apart until an embarrassing moan had escaped Bea's lips at the first feel of Allie's tongue on hers. After that she knew she needed to go, regrettably. Allie had practically begged her not to.

“I don't don't want you to go back there,” she had said, trying to reel Bea back in with her lips, but Bea needed to go. Not just because of the fact that her and Allie being alone for the rest of the night was sure to lead to things she wasn't sure she was ready for, but because she knew there was something that she was ready for. 

So she had gotten in her car and left, passing a grinning Allie as she exited the parking lot. When she got home and pulled into the garage, the house was dark so she turned the car off and took a moment to sit in the car and really let the events of the night fill her up. Allie's smile, touch, laugh, it all echoed through her until her lids started to droop and her memories melded with her dreams. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and soft skin. Whispers and moans.

A hard tap on the window jolted her awake. Harry's face next to the drivers' window. Her heart hammered in her chest, mostly from being woken up so abruptly. She pressed the button to roll the window down, and he just stared at her for a while, eyes hard. 

“Go take a shower,” he said, sniffing the air. “You smell like booze.” He walked over to his own car, got in, his eyes on Bea as the garage door opened behind them. 

She waited until he was gone to get out, rubbing her eyes as she walked into the house. It was later than she expected, but she wasn't late for work yet which was good. She walked into their bedroom to get dressed, and then headed to the bathroom, blushing at her own reflection. After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she set her towel on the rack beside the sink and leaned over to get the camera behind the sink.

_'Be brave,'_ Allie had said, and Bea was going to be this time. Her arm extended and reached behind the sink. Today was going to be the day, she thought.

Her fingers hit cold tile. She ducked her head to look under the sink, stomach turning. It was gone. The bag and the camera within it. As if expecting him to be there, Bea ran into the living room but she had seen him leave already. She was so angry that she almost missed it. In the doorway to her bedroom, Debbie stood watching Bea panic, not saying a word. Then the teen stepped back and closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found myself really struggling to get through the bar scene. Making sure I knew how I wanted it to progress, being respectful and tactful, all that shit was pretty hard this go round. Really hope it turned out well, and that I was able to give the two characters something that felt deserved at that point. Reminding myself that this fic is supposed to be set at the time where Bea was on the verge of snapping did not help me push her to the point of action in this chapter, so....hopefully it went okay! Oh and yeah, happy-ending-chapter streak officially broken.


	5. Table of Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a day since the camera has disappeared. Who stole it, and will its disappearance make her rethink whatever it is that's going on between her and Allie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah. So, sorry for the wait. Moving has been easy, but the aftermath – tiresome. This was the first chapter written in my new home and my days have been jammed packed with obligations. I literally wanted to throw a fit many times, because I kept getting called away from writing, but I had some adulting to do. Thanks so much for all the great comments, the kudos, etc you guys are the best. My lovely beta is back, and she has helped organize my thoughts in record time considering how busy I've been, so many thanks there as usual. Let's play, shall we? Hope you enjoy this long ass chapter. Cheers!

Bea dried the dishes off slowly. She'd been in her head since the morning before, when she'd been woken up by Harry, having fallen asleep in the car after her time with Allie. Earlier that day she had felt like something was off. Both Harry and Debbie had been acting strangely, and as it turned out, according to the phone call she'd received from her daughter's teacher, her instincts had been spot on. Not spot on enough to predict her camera being found and taken though. 

“You'll burn it,” Harry complained, staring down at the skillet. 

She looked over to him, watching as he stared down disapprovingly at the stove top, but didn't move the skillet himself. He's the one who liked things cooked a particular way, her and Debbie's food was already ready. Just as she thought of how ridiculous it would be to watch a grown man let his own food burn and was going to turn back to drying, Debbie walked into the kitchen and did exactly what both her parents refused to do. Bea noticed a subtle sneer from the teen, a look of disgust in her eyes.  
One could have seen it as teenage hormones, or an annoyed and fed up teen just being emotional as usual, but Bea knew better. Both she and Harry were acting like children. In more ways than Bea cared to admit, ever. He deserved her scorn and nonchalance, didn't he? It was him that couldn't even cook his own damn breakfast. 

Her shift the day before had been nerve wracking. She had been pissed that the camera was gone, just when she'd really felt so strong in her need to hand the evidence of Harry's abuse over to the cops, and anxious to know what it was that he was planning. Taking the camera that day, it would have been hours before he saw what was on it. She had checked her phone, checked the clock, checked on Debbie. And, of course, Allie had eventually checked on her. 

They hadn't seen each other since that night, and despite her home life, or maybe because of it, Bea felt a certain ache at the thought. She wished she could say that it had all been unexpected, the kiss, all of it, and that she hadn't gone out wanting...something. But that part of her that was aching, and longing, and angry at the fact that she'd spent so many years without truly feeling, that's the part of her that had led her to meet up with Allie that night. It was the part of her that allowed herself to kiss and be kissed. She understood that now. 

Her phone vibrated in her robe pocket. She looked around the kitchen subtly, and saw that Harry had heard a vibration but was looking to their daughter instead, who just laughed at his questioning glance. The teen mumbled something about turning it off, glancing over at Bea as she fixed her plate. Bea turned back to what she was doing, hooping the phone stayed silent. 

That happened a lot. When she thought about Allie and got lost in the memory of her lips, her laugh, or her smile, there she was in some sort of way. Showing up, messaging, calling. Bea barely had to wonder if the other woman was thinking about her just as much. She still didn't quite understand why, but there were a lot of things she didn't understand since Allie showed up. Her daughter's behavior included. 

After finishing up the last dish, Bea went over and made a small plate for herself. She sat at the table and inwardly groaned at the tense silence that overtook them. The image of Debbie backing into her room that morning was stuck in Bea's head. Both Harry and Debbie claimed that the teen had just arrived back home that morning via a ride, and that could have been true, but there had been something about the way the teen had watched her as the door had closed. It had left Bea even more unsettled than Harry's harsh stare greeting her after such pleasant dreams. She also a bit of a leg cramp from sleeping in a sitting position for hours. 

Then there was that laugh and shake of the head just then, the accepting the blame for what obviously wasn't her phone going off. Bea had never got around to actually talking to Debbie about her new 'client'. She thought perhaps that was a mistake. 

“So, Deb,” Harry said, wiping his mouth. “How did your exam go the other day?”

Both Bea and Debbie's heads both shot up, eyes glued to the man. He never asked about such things, because he typically never seemed to remember what his daughter said about her schooling. Again, not really a great parent. Bea looked to Debbie, unsure of whether the teen's teacher had let her know that they had talked. She hadn't wanted to say anything until she knew Debbie was aware of her grade, and was on the road to making up for it. 

Debbie shrugged. “I did alright.”

That was it. A simple shrug and a simple lie. Bea turned away from her daughter. Something was up. Dare she question the girl in front of her father while he was clearly in one of his scheming modes? No. They were all tiptoeing around one another, in a not so delicate manner. She wondered again if Debbie's teacher had told the teen that she'd called her. Technically she could find out for herself by calling Ms. Mitchell, but the thought of overstepping and betraying the teen's trust, this time directly, felt wrong. They'd always been so open with one another. Best friends, really, which meant they told each other everything. Years ago they'd promised one another that they'd always look out for the other, and yet there they were. 

She needed that camera. For once in her life she'd felt so close to finally being free of Harry. No, she hadn't gotten a call about working at the market, but she'd gotten fed up with waiting for everything to line up perfectly. It never would, and she knew it. Deep down, she knew it would never truly feel like a good time, but having someone else in her life that believed in her, valued her, cared for her, that made her feel that inner desperation for freedom expand within. Harry was absolute scum. And scum covered and ruined lives if you let them, even their kids'. 

They finished up their breakfast, and Harry went over to watch television, being off for the day. Bea and Debbie grabbed the plates off the table and began to wash them and put them away. “You sure everything's going okay in school, Debbie?”

Without looking over at her mum, the teen mumbled. “Why don't you just ask what you really want to ask?”

The question and tone of voice threw Bea back. Every once in a while they'd had their differences, they were mother and daughter after all. It was never about school though. Tone, attitude, misunderstandings, sure. 

“Sorry?” Bea asked, frowning. “I think I did.” Of course, her phone vibrated in her pocket again. 

Debbie scoffed. “You gonna get that? Could be a client trying to schedule a last minute touch up. Wouldn't want you to miss out on the good tip.” She dropped her dish in the sink and walked out of the kitchen without turning back, leaving Bea to gape at her as she did. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something, now that Deb isn't around.”

Bea jumped and turned around, not expecting the man to be back in the kitchen. 

He was leaning against the far counter, cup of coffee in hand. “You have to get a second job.”

“What?” she asked, tilting her head. Was the world collapsing in on itself or something?

“It's time you started to do your part around here financially. Hair dressing is a joke, Bea. Get your shit together and find another job. You like being away from home so much these days, anyways.”

Finally, she thought. They were going to get to that. All day yesterday she'd waited. She'd gone home on time and everything, and he hadn't shown up until it was extremely late. Piss drunk and clumsily knocking things around the house, he'd collapsed onto the couch without laying a single hand on her. Without asking a single question, or demanding any answers. She'd wanted to wring his neck that day for ruining her plan to expose him for the abuser he was, and for having her mind wonder when the anvil would finally drop. The pictures, Allie. It would all be laid out there under his fiery gaze.

“You've got a week,” he said, finishing his cup of coffee and tossing the mug into the sink. “Try to make a bit of money today, will ya? Let the old ladies show you more pictures of their grandkids, for fucks sake.”

She watched him walk away, and eventually heard the sound of the shower in their room start. A second job. The irony was too great. But his last comment, and that image of him at her car window that morning led her to ask herself how much the man suspected. First the note with Allie's number, now the second job, but still the old lady jokes. Why would he think anything of Allie being a new client, considering how many cracks he took at her for having no friends, and only having older women as clients which is why he thought her tips were shit. She'd been closing up the shop long before she'd met the blonde, had gotten new clients a few times a year when she was lucky. There was nothing she could think of that would clue him in on her – whatever, with Allie. 

With the other two house occupants off in their own emotional head-space, Bea reached into her robe pocket to finally check her messages. They'd only been able to get in a few the day before, one of which Allie made sure to remind her of how much she appreciated Bea's ending their friendship.

_'Complaints about my idiotic grin all day yesterday. When?'_

Bea shook her head, a smile on her face. How life could be so terrible and so wonderful at the same time, she didn't know. Her husband and daughter were wrapped up in something she knew would come to a head soon, and so was she, but to what end? Debbie needed her attention, and Bea had always given her everything that she could, always. Other than leaving Harry. But parents needed a life too, didn't they? They needed love and care from sources other than their children. Otherwise they're putting their child in an impossible position, and she understood that. She felt she did that enough, thinking of times Debbie had held her as a little girl, unsure of why Bea was a crumpled mess on the floor. 

Her smile lessened. She looked towards Debbie's door, hearing the sound of music coming from behind it. Discipline and structure were what people said helped a child get through the tougher parts of life, but typically that didn't include watching your mother suffer through an abusive relationship. At least, that's what Bea hoped. She walked over to the teen's door, standing outside of it with her hand raised to knock, but she didn't know what to say. Get your act together Debbie, because I've done such a great job of it myself, and sso has Harry obviously. What hypocrisy. 

She turned away from the door and reopened the message from Allie, sending a short response. _'Tonight.'_

////////////////////////

Bea swept her area in silence as everyone packed up their things. She'd finally offered to help Michelle with her area, in exchange for a future favor. Future favor unmentioned. Really, it did Bea a favor in that moment because it meant she'd need even more time to clean and lock up. The only one who seemed phased by the whole encounter had been Jo, the front desk clerk who tended to eye Bea more and more since her lunch outing with Allie. Bea just figured it was another nosy coworker, new enough to still be curious about Bea's life but old enough to know not to talk to her about it. Judging didn't require actual communication with a person. 

It didn't matter though. Neither shop drama nor family drama could contain her feelings of anticipation. She'd gone through nearly the whole cleaning routine with a smile on her face by the time she heard a quiet knock on the glass of the shop's front door. Her hands on the mop tingled, and she took a few deep breaths before going to open the door, but still found herself breathless when she saw Allie standing on the other side of it. Stupid grin, indeed, but it warmed Bea's heart nonetheless.

“Hi,” Bea said, leaning against the door, mop in one hand and the other one still on the door handle.  
“Cleaning the place up for me?” Allie teased. “You shouldn't've.” 

Bea laughed. “Get in here, Charmer.” The blonde passed by her, the heat of her body overwhelmingly close. She let the breeze from outside hit her face for a few seconds, then turned to go back inside. 

Allie was looking around the shop, fingers sliding on top of clean counters. “Place looks a lot different without the gossip crew, and desperate clients calling out for attention.”

“Then, not so different. You're here, aren't you?” Bea asked.

Faking a gasp, Allie turned towards Bea. “Ouch. I thought we were past all that.”

“Past what?” Bea asked, breaking eye contact with the approaching woman. When she saw the woman's shoes stop just in front of hers she laughed slightly, cursing her sweating palms as always. 

“Your not believing that I could possibly want you.” She placed a finger under Bea's chin. “Nervous?” she asked, getting Bea to look at her. 

Bea rolled her eyes. “How could you tell?”Her eyes bounced between Allie's eyes and lips, whereas Allie's were annoyingly steady on her face. It had only been one day, and yet Bea felt like she was back to square one. Paralyzed by nerves. The hand on her chin moved along her jaw to the back of her neck, easing her closer, Allie still grinning, eyes boring into hers. Bea flexed the hand at her side, and gripped the mop tighter with the other hand, until that first soft touch of their lips washed all the tension away. 

She sighed into the next few pecks, eyes falling shut. The hand on the back of her neck felt hot, and firm, keeping her grounded as the sliding of their lips made her stomach flutter. Then Allie opened her mouth, and Bea inhaled sharply at the feel of the blonde's warm tongue on her lips. Passing in between them, touching her own, sliding against it. The pace quickened, and Bea's free hand struggled to find a place to help ground her as she grew lightheaded. All she could feel was Allie's hand on her, her mouth and breath. Just when Bea thought she couldn't possibly be any more overwhelmed by the sensations running through her, the fingers of Allie's other hand cautiously began to slide up her torso, and Bea had to take a step back. 

Bea felt a familiar panic rising in her, a certain fear, and had to remind herself that it was Allie she was with in that moment. Gentle, kind Allie. “Sorry,” she said, with apologetic eyes. 

Allie reached for her free hand. “No, I'm sorry. Why don't we just talk for a bit, while you finish up. I could help.”

“No,” Bea said, shaking her head. She watched as Allie's thumb slid across her knuckles, let the smoothness of it ease the breath back into her. “Are you sure you're okay with just talking for a while?”

“Sure. You're good enough company, I guess,” Allie said, with a wink. She went over to Bea's station and sat in her chair, making slow half circles. Then her phone dinged, and she pulled it out of her pocket. 

Bea noticed Allie's smile falter and then drop. Her eyes narrowed on the screen, tongue ran across her teeth. Whatever she was reading, the blonde didn't like it and Bea hated to be whoever it was on the other end of the message.

Allie sent a response, and seemed to shake it off. She sat back in the chair, let her eyes glide over Bea. “So, seen any good movies lately?”

Bea laughed and got back to mopping, listening as Allie summed up some horrible sounding movie she'd seen recently. While she listened, she thought about who could have made Allie look such a way, and remembered the bruise on the blonde's side. It had made her worry even more about the younger woman's profession. Knowing how good, and honest Allie was, and her history with her parents, it wasn't the profession itself that bothered Bea but the risk. She didn't trust some strange man not to mistreat, and use Allie. But she didn't say anything about it, or ask any questions, she just laughed at Allie's reenactments of scenes and bad imitations of voices.

“I haven't been to a movie since Debbie was a little girl, and before that it had been ages.”

“They're mostly shit now, but it's still fun to go.” Bea guessed the blonde had gotten bored of swiveling in the chair, opting to stare at Bea as she cleaned instead. “Dark, quiet theater, if you pick the right time. Maybe I'll take you.”

“You're ridiculous,” Bea said, finishing up the last bit she needed to mop. She saw Allie start to stand up, and held her hand up. “Wait a second for the floor to dry.”

“What do I get for waiting?” Allie asked, sitting back and crossing her arms. 

Bea stowed the mop away and stood there for a moment, letting her back lean against the wall. “A good lesson in patience.”

“Now, see, I always know when something's worth the wait, Bea. Not a problem.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Bea laughed. She hadn't exactly meant to mop the place in such a way that she'd end up opposite Allie, but seeing the way the woman was staring at her she was glad to have a bit of distance. 

The blonde may have said she was okay with just talking, but the energy she exuded, and the looks she gave made it very clear that she'd rather not. On the one hand, Bea preferred that as well. What was there to really talk about, her home life, Allie's life? They did that, sure, but in those moments where the tension was so high, jumbled small talk was all they could manage. It was all very strange to Bea. 

“You're staring,” Bea said, cheeks warm. She looked down at her feet, and crossed her arms, rubbing her left hand up and down her right arm. 

“Damn right,” Allie said, arms still crossed. “You know what they say, look if you can't touch.”

“That is not how that goes, I'm pretty sure,” Bea laughed. “It's you can look, but you can't touch.”

“And now you've given me permission to do just that. I'm not the one who put a wet floor between us,” Allie teased, eyes unwavering. “You're squirming.”

Damn it, she was. She was shifting her weight from foot to foot, squeezing the tension that had returned to her shoulder. That pull was getting to her. The other night when they'd kissed, something inside of her had snapped. Her desire to be closer to Allie had been so clear and potent that her usual shyness and hesitation somehow fed on her pounding heart instead of letting it restrict her. In the day that they'd been apart she'd thought about that moment, that flood of tingles in the base of her abdomen, and she felt a yearning she'd thought rumored. 

Still, that yearning didn't prepare her for the shock of having another human being touch her that way, without some sort of violence or force behind it. Over the years, that was all she had known. She wanted to know something else, and to wipe that all away, but she didn't know how. Not how to reach that point of snapping again, or how to do anything with a woman now that she suddenly had the desire to. 

She looked over to Allie, noting that the woman hadn't said anything as she'd gotten lost in her own thoughts. Of course, the blonde was still leering at her. Proving to be eerily patient, if it had been someone else staring at Bea so intently. But it wasn't anyone else, it was Allie. Allie who hadn't been put off by her awkwardness, who'd trusted her enough to share the pains of her personal life with her, and offered to be there if Bea needed to do the same. Allie who knew about her being abused but didn't judge her, or push her, but offered to be wherever she needed instead. She didn't care that Bea was older, came with a ton of baggage and a kid. That was a rarity, Bea knew, because it sounded entirely unappealing even to her. Not that that said much considering her own opinion of herself, but Allie even challenged that. 

The floor looked dry enough, Bea thought as she started to walk across the room. Allie sat up a little straighter in her chair, but didn't let any of the confidence in her stare falter, though her mouth did open slightly. Bea could do this. She'd done it before the other night. All she had to do was let herself get lost in the sensations of it all. 

“Not more talking, then?” Allie asked. 

“Shh,” Bea said, standing in front of the blonde. She hesitantly placed her hands on Allie's shoulders, as she stepped between the woman's legs. The intimacy of that position excited her more than she'd intended, but she pressed on, hands moving to the back of Allie's neck so her fingers could enjoy the soft hair there. She dreamed of that soft hair, between her fingers, tickling her face. Washing it had been as much torture as it had been pleasurable, because this was the way she'd truly wanted to run her fingers through it before she had even realized that was what it was.

Allie's head tilted back, their eyes locked. Bea smiled down at the beauty beneath her and slowly leaned down to connect their lips. Again, they started gently and soft. Neither one of them pressing for anything more than the feel of the others' lips on their own. Bea sighed in relief as she was able to feel that itch within her grow, building up and toppling over her anxiety. It just felt so good. Too good. This time Bea opened her mouth first, tongue reaching, and Allie immediately responded with her own, her stoic silence broken by a quiet moan. Bea felt hands cautiously land on her back, and dove in deeper until those hands were pressing upwards towards her shoulder blades, massaging the muscles along her spine.

This was nothing like anything Bea had ever experienced. Heavy breathing, caressing hands, inviting mouths. They pulled each other closer, and closer, only letting their mouths separate for a second when they needed to breath. Bea felt like she was drowning in the desire she felt. One of her hands dipped back down to Allie's collar bone, and she could feel the blonde press up against her fingers, wanting to feel her touch. And Bea wanted to touch her, to move her hand lower to feel the building curve of Allie's chest, but the thought of doing so made the fluttering in her stomach too strong. She pulled back a little, flexing her hand at her side when she let it fall. 

Luckily, her tendency to laugh when she was nervous broke the tension a bit, but they kept their faces close, nose and lips sometimes grazing. “I don't know what to do,” Bea admitted. 

“What you were doing was working pretty well for me,” Allie said, with a wide grin. 

Bea was surprised that her face could grow any warmer. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what” Allie laughed. 

“Like my inexperience is amusing to you,” Bea said, pulling back some and putting her once wandering hand back on Allie's shoulder.

“Oh, this isn't my amused face.”

“It does look a lot like your leering face, actually,” Bea said, with a laugh. She bit her lip, staring down into Allie's dilated, blue eyes. “This is all so new to me. No one's ever kissed me, touched me, or hell even looked at me the way that you do. And you're a woman too, which is...”

“Also, new?” Allie offers. Bea just nods in response. “Just think of it this way. A lot of the things you like to do to yourself, I'll probably like too. We both know you have the hands of a goddess when it comes to massages.”

Bea scoffed, and looked away. “If you're saying what I think you are, about me – with myself,” she struggled to say this without feeling entirely humiliated. “That also would be new. I haven't....god, please don't make me finish that sentence.”

Allie's brows shot up. “Wow. Okay.”

“Yeah,” Bea said, trailing off. She took a step back, letting her hands fall. “I'm somehow just realizing that I've stayed married for entirely too long, for reasons I hadn't considered important before.” 

“Bea, no.” Allie slid out of the chair. “Out of everything, that's the last thing you should be worrying about right now. He's taken so much more from you than just experience in that arena, so you could know what to do with someone else. This is about you, first and foremost, and what he's taken from you.” She put a hand on Bea's cheek, and tilted her head as Bea leaned into it, examining her face. “Why haven't you called the police or something, taken Debbie and disappeared?”

She wished she could request that they go back to no talking, but then what? If what happened next required her digging into a chest of secret personal pleasures, then she had nothing. And even if she had an inkling, could she really go through with it with her life being what it was? She wasn't sure. 

“I did go to the cops once,” she began. “When Debbie was ten, almost eleven, Harry got really mad one night. He was piss drunk. It was back when he first really started drinking, so he really couldn't hold his liquor then. It was one of his excuses for things getting worse, and he blamed me for that too. Said I drove him to drink by making him feel like a shit husband, and provider. I didn't ask him to provide a damn thing for me.”

He was yelling at the top of his lungs as Bea tried to get him to calm down, saying she had no right to tell him what to do in his own house. His fist smacked her across the face, sending her to the ground, and that's when she had noticed Debbie watching in the hallway. She shook her head no at the girl, but it didn't stop her from running forward when Harry moved to kick Bea. The girl was far away that she didn't get kicked instead, but her kneeling down and calling out to Bea only shocked Henry further into a rage. He felt ashamed, and more angry because of it. For the first time ever, he began to yell at Debbie. He told her that if she didn't go back to her room she was just as worthless and meddlesome as her mother, and went to grab her by the arm, but Bea managed to stand up in time to block him. That only made him more angry. He'd never hurt Debbie he yelled as he shoved Bea, ironically, right into Debbie. The girl broke her arm. 

“He made me put on make-up before we took her to the hospital, to cover up the bruise on my face,” Bea recounted, as she walked a few feet away.. “It didn't matter though. I knew the doctors would have to report the injury to the cops, and I knew I was going to tell them what happened. I did tell them.”

“Then what happened?” Allie asked, letting Bea have her bit of distance. 

“The cops wanted to talk to Debbie alone, and she lied. Harry had been talking to her while I was in the hallway with the cops, and he got her to lie and say it was my fault. That I had been drinking and fell on top of her, breaking her arm. I hadn't been drinking at all, but both Harry and Debbie saying I had was enough for them. There were no charges or anything.”

“Shit, Bea. I'm sorry.”

“Me too,” Bea said, with a forced, tight lipped smile. “Most of all for Debbie. She felt so bad afterwards, knowing she'd done something wrong. I guess she could see it on my face as the cops talked to me. She's pretty observant. Promised me she'd always look out for me, and warn me when Harry was up to something and tried to get her involved. No kid should have to think, or feel that way.”

“That may be true, but that doesn't change the fact that you both need one another if you're going to get through this,” Allie said, walking over to where Bea stood hugging herself. She unwrapped Bea's arms so she could wrap her own arms around her. “You've gotta get out, Bea. For her sake as well as yours. Whatever she needs, that's what you've gotta be. And you will be, I know it.”

//////////////////////////

The next day when Bea got home from work she was not surprised to hear Harry and his mates in the living room talking loudly. The day hadn't been bad at all, a light shift filled with texts from Allie. Some of them just to flirt shamelessly knowing Bea was at work, others making sure Bea was feeling good emotionally, and if f everything was okay at home the morning after they'd gone to the bar. Everything had gone fine. Mostly because she hadn't had to interact with Harry at all, outside of their interaction in the garage. That was about to change. 

“We grabbed take out on the way here,” he said, seeing her walk into the kitchen. His friends glanced over their shoulders at her, small waves and a grunt of acknowledgment. 

“Alright,” Bea said, setting down her things. He looked at her expectantly, like she should've been grateful or something but she just continued removing the strap of her bag, and jacket. “Is Debbie in her room?” she asked. 

“Said she was going to lie down for a bit a while ago,” he answered, walking over to stand directly beside her. “Any ideas about the second job?” he asked, quietly, glancing over at his friends on the couch. 

She could already smell beer on his breath. More than what should have been possible, considering his work hours. “Not yet” she answered. Yes, she could have brought up her applying to the market, or her thinking of applying to the one closer to their house, but she never wanted him to know anything about her plans. She'd rather he didn't know and be angry, then control any other part of life. “I don't think a week is really a long enough time to--” He reached for her, and she stepped away. 

His nostrils flared. If he had had a bottle of beer in his hand, Bea was sure it would be shattering to the ground. “Find a fucking job, Bea, or I swear to god.”

She nodded her head, and said nothing else. When he walked away she rubbed her forehead in frustration and then went to take a shower. It would give her time to get over the fact that her husband, as expected, had soured her mood a bit and to continue to wonder what the heck was going on in her house. Over the years, she'd figured out how much Harry got agitated by the mere suggestion, mostly likely made up in his head, that he wasn't man enough to provide for his family. It was one of the reasons he so adamantly criticized her job, to make himself feel better, stronger, more liked. Now suddenly he wanted her to get a second job? Maybe he did really know about Allie and was trying to make sure Bea was occupied every moment of every day. Again though, she couldn't imagine him being so calm at the thought of Bea not only cheating on him, but with a woman. His ego should have been crushed and then flung about the house in attempts to declare himself the man, and instead....he was bringing his own dinner home, asking Debbie about her grades, asking Bea to get a second job. 

The hot water ran over her skin as the details of the days, of the moments she had interacted with Harry over the passing days, ran through her mind. There was nothing. But there was definitely something brewomg, and one day soon it would come to a head. She needed to get out before then. Whatever she needs, Allie had said. It's what they both needed, her and Debbie. Camera be damned, she had to find a way out. She just wasn't sure how exactly. 

After drying herself off, and wrapping her hair, Bea put some clothes on and headed to Debbie's room to talk to the teen about it. The men were still on the couch, arguing about whatever play that seriously shouldn't have gone the way that it had, according to Harry. Bea knocked on her daughter's door lightly, hoping the teen was either awake already or would wake up hearing her knock. Late naps weren't typical for Debbie, and Bea wouldn't have been surprised if the teen had just said she was going to lie down to get away from the men in the house. But she never heard a voice floating through the door telling her to come in, or the sound of a creaking bed spring as the teen bounced out of bed. 

She pushed the door open slowly. “Debbie?” she called, trying to give her daughter a bit of warning instead of just walking in. But there was still no response, so she pushed the door open all the way. No Debbie. Next she checked the hall bathroom, knocking harder on this door than she had the teen's bedroom. “Debbie?” she called, again. 

“She's not here,” Harry said, at the end of the hallway. “Just left. Said she'd be back later tonight.”

“It's a school night, Harry,” Bea said, annoyed. “Did you ask her where she was going?”

“No, I just let her walk out into the night. Something about a school project. Same as all the other nights you picked her up after closing up the shop,” he answered, scoffing and folding his arms.

Bea ignored that last comment, and went back into her bedroom. She called Debbie from her cell phone, but the teen didn't answer, so she messaged her. 'Call me back.' Harry hadn't followed her into the room, to her relief. She could hear him back in the living room talking to the other men, so she went to close her door, but something one of them said caught her attention. She crept towards the living room, peering into it as subtly as possible from the hallway.

“You haven't told her about the demotion, yet?”

There it was, the answer to her questions about the second job. She moved back into the hallway, back against the wall. He'd fucked up. Showed up drunk, late, gone off on someone, something. She knew it would happen one day, but after so many years, she had started to doubt her sureness. A reduction in pay, documented marks against him at his long time job. It was just what she needed. Even if she didn't find a second job now, a court wouldn't see him as being able to provide much more than she could then, and if he got into any altercation at work or showed up drunk then she'd be able to prove he was unfit to raise Debbie even without proof of his abuse. 

She tried to call Debbie again, this time leaving a voice-message. “Where the heck are you, Debbie? Call me back.” Bea went back to her room, falling back onto the bed with a sigh. Just when she closed her eyes her phone began to vibrate. It wasn't a number she recognized. “Hello?”

There was a lot of noise in the background, some ruffling before she clearly heard someone on the other end. “It's Allie.”

Bea sat up, eyes going to the door. “Where are you calling me from?”

More noise. “Phone is dead, sorry. This is a landline.”

“Not the best time here,” Bea said, shaking her head at the blonde's lovely timing. “Debbie just took off without talking to me.” If Debbie hadn't done it more than once over the past few days, Bea may have believed it was because she was in the shower that the teen didn't wait to talk to her as well, but it was so unlikely. The teen didn't tend to leave Bea at home with Harry without a word. 

“You try calling her?” Allie asked. 

“Of course,” Bea answered. “I text her, left a message. She hasn't gotten back to me yet.”

They were both silent for a moment, then Allie seemed to move to a quieter area. “Come out with me then.”

“You're kidding,” Bea said. “You did hear the part where my daughter just took off without talking to me, right?”

“No, I tend not to listen to you, after all. Sounds just like me,” Allie scoffed. Bea could hear the eye roll, somehow coupled with a smile in that moment. “Is Harry home?” Allie asked, and she said he was. “And you've left a message for Debbie to call you?” Again, Bea answered yes. “Then, come out with me. At least until Debbie gets back to you.”

Bea put her head in her free hand, and listened to the bit of noise on the other line. Then she reached up and unwrapped the towel around her head. “Okay. But if Debbie calls, I'll have to go.”

“Deal,” Allie said, before telling Bea where to meet her. The blonde wouldn't tell her exactly where she was going to meet her, in terms of the name of the establishment, just what street and where to park. Bea tried not to let that bother her, considering all the secrecy she was dealing with at home, but Allie told her to just trust that she'd be surprised and excited. 

After drying her hair a little more, Bea grabbed a light jacket. She took a deep breath and stood taller, knowing Harry may see her walking towards the garage, unlike the last time. And she was right. Just as she was about to walk past the kitchen he stopped her. 

“Where you going?” he asked, hand on her wrist. Not tight enough to bruise that time, but hard enough to stop her movement. 

“I'm meeting the women from the shop out for a drink. We're trying to figure out how to expand our client list. Thought you'd appreciate that,” she said, evenly. He stared down at her, looking from eye to eye for some sort of weakness she was sure, but she wasn't going to flinch or back down. “Let go, Harry.”

One of his mates called for him, and he looked over his shoulder. “Be right there,” he yelled, letting go of her wrist, and turning to walk away.

Her eyes followed him. She listened to one of his friends say something about wishing his wife would get a life like Bea, and get off his back. Bea couldn't help but chuckle at that, then she walked out. The drive was short, and uneventful. It was a week night, so there weren't so many people out, and where Bea parked there was hardly any cars. She followed Allie's instructions and walked around the block, spotting the blonde leaning against a light post, a smile instantly playing across her lips. 

“Dark, quiet theater, if you go at the right time, eh?” Bea asked. 

Allie stood from leaning against the post, hands in her jacket pocket. “More like, giving you the cliché date night you deserve. Gotta skip the dinner, sorry.”

“Well, it's a good thing I'm not hungry then,” Bea smiled. 

“Your pick,” Allie said, nodding towards the lit sign above them, listing the movies that were showing. Once Bea picked, only after being teased about her indecisiveness again, Allie insisted on buying the tickets and at least one small order of chips, despite Bea's protesting. The moment they stepped into the already dark theater, Allie interlaced their fingers. “No worries about silencing your phone,” she said.

The theater was practically empty, one woman sitting on her own in the middle, and a couple sitting closer to the front. Allie guided Bea up to a higher row, walking them to the middle of it once she'd picked one. Bea was stunned to silence, basically. Answering with short yeses and nos, a shake of the head and a nod here, once their fingers interlaced and even more so when they sat down. 

Allie lifted the arm rest between them. “Bet they couldn't do that back in your day,” she teased. “Or did they still only have drive-ins then?”

Bea shook her head. “Ha-ha,” she said, accepting the popcorn being offered to her. The movie started, and Bea found out Allie was the type to whisper snide comments about the characters and actors, even if she was enjoying the movie. She'd lean over close to Bea, breath tickling Bea's ear as she poked fun, then she'd go back to smiling at the screen and stuffing popcorn into her mouth. When she noticed she was eating most of it, she handed the bag to Bea, separating their hands and then laying her hand on Bea's thigh instead. 

The older woman stared at the hand for a while, lost in the slow sweeping of Allie's thumb back and forth. When she looked back to Allie's face, the blonde simply stared at the screen, but Bea could tell Allie knew she was watching her by the way her smile morphed into a smirk. Bea smiled harder at the sight, the playfulness of the moment, then she turned back to the movie. It was funny, and the writing wasn't bad, but the actors were kind of terrible. A few of them anyways. Still, Bea was happy to be there, and only checked her phone fifty times instead of a hundred. 

Maybe when she was younger she envied those couples that went on dates, but with Harry being who he was, after Debbie was born especially, she'd gotten over the notion of romance. Not that she could consider movie dates truly romantic as an adult. You sat in a dark room where you were meant to be quiet, the opposite of getting to know one another, but she and Allie had already begun to do that. She looked over again, and Allie took the bag from her hands. Bea thought it was because the blonde wanted to finish it off, and she started to make a joke about the guy eating all of his dates food after paying for it, but Allie turning in her seat stopped her. 

The blonde touched her face and slowly leaned in. “Wouldn't be a movie date if we didn't make out a little.”

“So this was about getting me into a dark room,” Bea said, nervously. This kiss didn't begin so gently and hesitantly as the others, and she didn't know if it was the darkness or what, but Bea quickly found her fingers in Allie's hair. Sliding across her shoulders and biceps, Allie's hands on her back again. It was a safe place last time, Bea remembered, and she was grateful Allie had too. That didn't stop Bea from craving those hands to move and explore, trembling fear and all, but the movie was over before she knew it. She tried not to laugh at Allie's red, swollen lips, and dazed expression when the lights came on, knowing she probably looked very similar. 

Walking out the theater, their fingers were back to being interlaced and they didn't pull them apart right away when they got outside. Bea didn't want to at all, but she needed to step away to try to call Debbie again, which the blonde encouraged her to do anyways. The teen's phone just rang, and rang, finally going into voicemail. Bea left another message, letting the teen know she was worried about her, and to call her. She also mentioned the fact that she wasn't home before hanging up. Soon she'd need to tell Debbie about Allie anyways. It wasn't right to keep it a secret as it turned into, whatever it was turning into. 

Bea turned back towards where she'd left Allie waiting, and was surprised to see the blonde arguing with a man. The same man Bea had seen her with the night she'd found out Allie was a prostitute, she realized. He was pointing his finger in Allie's face, which the blonde swatted away but that seemed to only piss him off, if his getting into her face was any indication. Bea was confused, and conflicted by the sudden encroachment onto their date. She remembered the look on Allie's face when she'd gotten a text while she had been cleaning the shop still, the night before. The darkness that had overcome Allie's face, so unlike the other expressions the blonde had worn. 

She started to walk back towards them, first slowly, and then picking up her pace when she saw the man grab Allie by the arm. Images of Harry doing the same to her, pulling her close to slap her hard across the face, filled her mind. Her gut twisted. She felt scared, but more than that she felt angry. She was angry that she'd been subjected to such violence for so long, losing faith in the supposed beauties in life, and angry that good people like Allie were a victim of it all too. 

“Hey,” she yelled. “Get your hands off her.”

“Bea, it's alright,” Allie said, holding out her free arm to try to get Bea to stop. 

“Who the hell is she, hmm?” the man asked. “She pay you to take her out on a sweet night on the town?” he asked, clearly making fun of the two of them. “Or, is this who you skipped out on me for the other night?” His eyes trailed over Bea, unimpressed by what he saw. “ Fucking pathetic, dykes. Little bit young for you, isn't she, Red?”

“What is this, twenty questions?” Allie asked, yanking her arm away. “Get the hell out of here, Derek. You're embarrassing yourself.”

The look in his eyes when Allie said that, Bea recognized it. It was the same look Harry got when he felt like he was being humiliated. The man turned back towards Allie, lifting his hand with a tight fist closed at the end. Bea took two huge steps then. “No,” she yelled, grabbing his arm as he reared it back. But he swung back harder, elbowing her in the eye and turning to do worse as she fell to the ground. 

“Fuck,” Bea said, holding her eye. 

Allie grabbed the man by the shoulder and spun him around, pressing a knife to his throat. “Back the fuck off,” she said through grit teeth. “This is between you and me.”

“We're going to settle this soon. You, and me,” he said. He straightened his shirt, and walked past Bea, acting as if he were going to spit on her but laughing at her instead. 

Once the man was out of sight, Allie put her knife into her pocket and helped Bea up. She titled her head back and looked at the eye that got elbowed. Her silence was unnerving as she examined the area, and pushed Bea's hair behind her ear, fingers lingering. 

“It's fine,” Bea whispered. 

Allie responded by pulling her into a kiss, holding her face tightly. It was a lot like the one in the theater, assertive and deep. Bea's hands landed on Allie's waist, fingers splayed, gripping tighter with each swipe of Allie's tongue against hers. Then the blonde moved from her lips to her neck, and Bea's eyes shot open before rolling back, the sucking on her neck unexpected. 

“Not here,” Bea managed to get out, remembering that they were in a very public place. It was one thing to kiss in a movie theater, closed shop, or a dark parking lot it was another thing to make out on a sidewalk. She was still a married woman. One that wasn't even sure of what she meant by the words, not here, but still. 

The blonde pulled back and stared into Bea's eyes for a long moment, searching them for what Bea assumed was an answer a question that wasn't being vocalized. What she found there must have been enough for her to make an internal decision. Still being abnormally quiet, the blonde asked for Bea's keys, and told the woman to try daughter one more time before driving them a few blocks up the road. The increasing number of hotels on the street made Bea's heart beat faster. She was squirming again, but Allie placed her hand on her thigh and she stopped, placing her hand on top of the blonde's and staring out the window. 

/////////////////////////

Bea couldn't even look at the person behind the counter when they got out, and she resisted asking Allie questions on how they would afford such a nice hotel. It wasn't the best of the best or anything, but it was definitely more expensive than any Bea had stayed at. Allie received the key, and led her by the hand to the elevator, and then their room on the fourth floor. 

Their room. She swallowed hard. It was as nice as she expected it to be, nicer even. 

“We don't have to do anything you don't want to do,” Allie said, once she'd closed and locked the door behind them. “Just say the word, and we'll stop.”

“Alright,” Bea said, hands fidgeting at her side. Allie walked up to her slowly, only a small subtle smile on her face, instead of the broad salacious grin. She took a moment to look at Bea's eye again, touching her thumb to it lightly. It stung a little, but not enough to lessen the feel of Allie's body heat radiating towards her. Their eyes met. Allie's thumb swept across her bottom lip, then the blonde leaned in to suck that lip between her own plump ones, and Bea knew she wanted more. She pulled Allie's mouth to hers, tongues gliding. Allie moaned and the vibrations traveled through Bea, spreading and then settling as a low tingling between her thighs. 

Allie backing them up until her legs hit the bed, pushing Bea's jacket off her shoulders when she sat down, and then hovering over Bea as she slid them up the bed. Bea was already shaking, even though they were both fully clothed. Their kissing had sped up some, but the slow plunging of Allie's tongue as her hand moved from Bea's neck, down her arm, and landing on her waist made it hard to concentrate on moving her lips. Then Allie was back at her neck again, lips grazing, and sucking. The blonde whispered something about making it all about Bea, pulling Bea's hand from her waist. Bea thought the blonde was going to guide her hand upwards, getting Bea to finally touch her in places that weren't so innocent. It wasn't that she hadn't wanted to touch Allie, she did, it was just that each time her hand reached she felt her anxiety spike. The blonde didn't move Bea's hand to her chest or anywhere on her own body though. She placed their hands on Bea's stomach instead, making sure her hand stayed on top. 

It was the same area that had freaked Bea out before, but this time, with Allie's hand on top of hers she didn't panic. The blonde made eye contact with her then, asking if that was okay before she began to move their hands, applying a tiny bit of pressure when their fingers neared Bea's diaphragm. Bea gasped, unintentionally pressing up harder into their hands. She laughed, and shook her head. Allie smiled down at her, hair falling, then she brought their mouths back together and moved their hands upwards. Bea whimpered as her own fingers swept over her clothed nipple, and again as she palmed and massaged her breast, then moved to the other, her other hand gripping Allie's side. Things started to get hazy then. 

Her hand was guided along her chest, stomach, her side, and thighs. Sometimes just grazing, other times squeezing, and releasing in delicious patterns and tempos. Every time Allie stopped kissing her, Bea found herself following that mouth, seeking it out. She could feel the blonde's heat on her side, on the thigh closest to her, could smell that sweet smell in her hair, and her mind screamed out for me. Each kiss to her neck left her trembling, and it took her a moment to realize Allie was simply laying her hand on top of hers and no longer guiding it at all. She couldn't stop though, matching the slow drive of Allie's tongue as she massaged her own breasts again, surprised by how much she enjoy it in that moment when she'd never enjoyed it before. Eventually, Allie's hand vanished. 

She felt the grating of her zipper being pulled down more than she heard it beneath their heavy breathing and opened her eyes just as Allie was pulling back from her neck. The blonde was smirking a little then, and it made Bea want to kiss those lips, but Allie only moved back when she leaned up, teasing her. The blonde's hand returned to lying on top of Bea's, this time a bit closer to her wrist, and she guided Bea's downwards. 

“You sure?” she asked, with Bea's own fingers dipping down beneath the fabric of rough jeans. Bea didn't know what it was she was agreeing to exactly, but she said yes, and then she felt the dampness between her thighs coat her fingers. Allie kept her fingers closer to Bea's wrist. “Spread it around a bit,” she instructed. 

Bea experimentally moved her fingers around, hips jerking when her middle finger slipped between her lips. Allie smirked, brow rising, then she started to guided Bea through a few motions. Up and down, then circles, switching at random. As soon as Bea's hand moved on its own, Allie was kissing her again, sliding her hand down past Bea's to grip the woman's thigh. Bea's hips began to move, jolts of pleasure overtaking her, swelling within as her muscles in her lower abdomen began to tighten. She breathed hot quick breaths onto Allie's lips, and gripped the woman's side tighter, sounds beginning to erupt from her chest as she began to tremble. 

“That's it, Bea,” Allie whispered against her lips, her hand suddenly moving to put pressure behind Bea's through her jeans. 

Bea's back arched and her legs pulled tight, as her mouth fell open. She felt herself clench onto nothing once, twice, and then all tension in her body snapped. Her hips pressed and pressed against her hand, torso curving upwards towards Allie, body shaking. When she finally opened her eyes, the hand that was pressing against her own then gliding up and down her arm, Bea couldn't help but laugh at the smirk the blonde wore, aftershocks hitting her less and less as she melted into the bed. They shared a few deep kisses, and then Bea started to doze off with Allie's arms wrapped around her. 

When she opened her eyes next, Allie's arms were still wrapped around her and Bea allowed herself to revel in the feeling. Memories of what happened between them made her blush, only partly out of embarrassment. Never in her life had she thought she'd do anything like that, whether she was in a relationship or not. The blonde was right though, she did feel a sense freedom. Not just because suddenly understood all the fuss over orgasms, either. Allie had given her the strength she needed, had dug it up from somewhere deep inside of Bea so the older woman could see it, and feel it. Her life needed to move forward, and all she had to do was take that first step. She'd already taken it. 

“You awake?” Allie asked. 

Bea turned around in the blonde's arms, fingers reaching for those blonde locks. She let her eyes trace over every inch of Allie's face. “You're so beautiful.”

Allie laughed. “That's the orgasm talking.”

“No, it's not,” Bea smiled. She kissed Allie then, her body humming at the contact. “Maybe a little,” she said, when they pulled apart. They both laughed and then slowly sat up, straightening their clothes as they did. “I have to go.”

“I know,” Allie said, getting out of bed. She picked up Bea's jacket, and walked her over to the door. “I had a good time. Outside of that creep showing up anyways. Still sorry about that.”

Bea wasn't sure they would have ended where they had if the man hadn't shown up, maybe they would have, maybe they wouldn't have. It made it hard to regret any part of the night without knowing for sure though. “I had a good time, too,” she said, simply. “Thank you.”

“Thank yourself,” Allie said, with a wink. She leaned down to give Bea a long, enthusiastic kiss. “Night, Bea.”

“Night, Allie,” Bea said. Looking back at the end of the hallway, her smile grew when she saw Allie still watching her. The blonde looked tired, a little pale. “Get some rest,” she called, then she made her way out of the hotel. 

By the time she pulled onto her street the sun was starting to come up. She'd checked her phone multiple times on the way home, but there was still nothing from Debbie at all. It would have been nice to find the teen already in bed, asleep from a long night of studying. That would be the perfect ending to what turned out to be an interestingly good night, despite everything. As soon as she went to turn into her driveway though, she saw her daughter hopping out of an unfamiliar car. The teen spotted her and her eyes went wide. She told whoever that dropped her off to leave and took off towards the front door. Bea didn't even bother trying to really park, she simply put her car into gear at the curb and jumped out of the car. 

“Debbie,” she said, following the girl. The girl was fumbling with her keys, but she got it open, not turning to look back at Bea once. “Debbie, stop,” she said, even louder. Once they were inside she knew she'd have to quiet down, and she was right. Harry was passed out on the couch, snoring, a line of beers on the floor beside him. No matter. She ran into Debbie's room. 

“Where the hell have you been?” she asked. She saw then that the jacket the teen was wearing was too big. It hung off her shoulders, dirtied and holed. The teen reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. “You've got to be kidding me.”

“You're one to talk,” Debbie said, stepping forward and touching Bea's eye, making Bea flinch. “Might want to cover that up.”

“Shit,” Bea said, having not thought of the bruising she should have known to expect. They began to talk over each other then, barely containing their whispers. “You have no right to talk to me that way, I'm the parent here. I don't know what's going on with you, but--”

“What's going on with me?” Debbie laughed sarcastically. “I can't believe this. You're going to lecture me about being out all night, when you've come home with a fucking black eye?”

“Language,” Bea said, more shocked than anything.

“And after I covered your ass the other day. For what?” Debbie continued. “For you to go out and let someone do that to you? How do I know all those bruises were even from Dad when you're coming home with--”

Bea frowned. “Covered my..” she trailed off, then her eyes narrowed. “Give me the camera, Debbie.”

The teen stopped talking, crossing her arms. She stared at her mother for a long time, not moving. “I don't have the camera.” She said, but she eventually cracked under Bea's gaze. She walked over to her bed, pulling out a backpack from underneath it. Inside there was an envelope. “These are the pictures that were on it.”

Bea took the envelop, hands shaking as she unsealed it and pulled out the photos. Picture after picture, all of her bruised body, except for one. At the bottom of the stack, in the midst of a crowd she could see herself standing in front of the shop, with Allie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that was alright, and worth the wait! The last part didn't get to get looked over by my beta, so sorry if any mistakes are left. It's probably obvious that this fic is coming to an end soon, after the events of this chapter. At least I hope it's obvious. It's all down and back up hill from here. I'm guessing there will be two to three more chapters, and maybe an epilogue. Hope you guys like how it all plays out! God, I really don't like writing scenes that are sexual, so please let me know if it was horrible. Thanks for reading!


	6. Unraveling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea must confront some of the secrets she's been keeping, and Allie's troubles continue to rise to the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, alright. I know that I'm horrible for making you wait. Truly, I'm beyond sorry. My relationship took a bumpy turn, and family is in town, so getting the time and focus to write was hard. I almost put out literal (no, not really literally) shit, but my amazing beta saved us all from the heartache of shallow writing. You guys have been so unbelievably fucking amazing. I'm so happy that so many of you are truly enjoying this fic, I've never had so much great feedback. Hope you enjoy the chapter! Cheers!

Bea sat down on Debbie's bed, still staring down at the pictures from the camera. Her daughter seeing the numerous bruises over her body made her feel guilty enough, but the one of her and Allie made her feel much worse. They weren't even doing anything in the picture. There was plenty of space between them. Bea was pretty sure it was right after their ice-cream lunch, which didn't make it any better in that moment. 

“Did she do that to you?” Debbie asked, going to stand in front of her mother. 

“No,” Bea answered quickly, shaking her head. “She would never.” It was true, she knew it. Allie wouldn't ever lay a hand on her. She had threatened to stab the man who'd elbowed Bea in the eye though. Derek, her client. Bea swallowed hard. How could she honestly explain the bruise on her eye? She didn't want to lie to her daughter any more than she had already. Not that she didn't realize that her daughter had also been keeping secrets. “How did you know?”

“About what, the camera or you and your new client?” the teen asked. “I saw you using it one morning, once Dad had left.” She sat down on the bed next to her mother. “After my exam the other day I was upset, really upset, and so I-I left.”

“You did what?” Bea asked, frowning. “What were you thinking?” Never had Bea expected to hear that her Debbie was skipping school, not even when things were extremely tense around the house. From what she could see in her daughter, it was the teen's way out. If she could just do well, and graduate, then she'd be free of all the drama she'd been surrounded by her whole life. 

Debbie put her face in her hands. “I know, I know,” she said, quietly, slightly rocking back and forth. She shoulders were haunted over, her torso close to her knees. Bea recognized what she saw, the despair. “Everything is so fu-messed up.”

Bea placed a hand on her daughter's back, rubbing soothing circles like she did when Debbie was sick. It always made her feel better when she was a little girl, but Bea knew those days were long gone. “I know that me and your dad haven't,” she paused, looking away for a moment. “With everything that's happened--”

“Mum, please.” Debbie sat up, tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes. “Look, I get that dad is horrible. I do. But that morning when I saw you with the camera and I realized why you would be taking those pictures, I couldn't help but think...” She wiped at her eyes, ensuring that the tears didn't streak down her face as she spoke. “I don't want him to suffer either, which is so, so messed up because all he's done is make us suffer, and hurt, and worry. Every day.”

It was her fault too. Not the abuse itself, but for staying. She understood the conflicting feelings her daughter felt, she'd felt them too. Back when things had first started to get bad, she kept telling herself that Harry was a good man. He was just confused, angry, messed up from his childhood. Anything other than directly laying the blame where it was due. That had stopped eventually. One day he had left her such a mess, and said such horrible things that she just knew. None of it was her fault. It was all him. His ego, his insecurities. 

“That day that I came home I didn't expect anyone to be here. I just needed a moment to regroup, you know? But Dad was here. He was going crazy, ripping the place apart. Saying stuff about you not putting all the money you make towards the house. That's what he was looking for, money.”

Bea had been keeping most of her tip money for when she left Harry, but it wasn't enough to really do much thus far. If he had been demoted though, any cent would count. He was desperate. Anda his ego demanded no one know that he was desperate enough to need his wife's tips to make ends meet.

“When he saw that I was home he got so mad. More mad at me than I can ever remember him being. I thought I was going to piss myself,” she laughed bitterly. “As soon as I could, I took the camera and headed towards your shop. You weren't there, so I was going to just leave. That's when I saw you with her. Allie, right?”

With what Debbie had just told her, Bea was still hung up on the idea of Harry losing his temper with Debbie. She could picture him turning to see her behind him, catching him in such a vulnerable position. It didn't matter that he'd never hit her before, Bea felt that it was lucky he hadn't that day. If it had been her that caught him going through everything he would have immediately turned all of his aggression onto her, demanding that she hand all of it over or claiming that he didn't actually need her. Whatever fit his mood in that moment. That would have been the last straw for Bea. All of her fantasies about killing him over the past months...she wasn't sure she would have been able to stop herself. 

“Why didn't you tell me as soon as it happened?” Bea asked. “Then I would have known what was going on.”

Debbie scoffed. “Please. I went to tell you that day, and you were out to lunch with Allie. Jo told me. She'd probably tell anyone who asked. Doesn't look very skanky to me, but according to Jo....”

What was it with Allie and Jo always being obnoxious with one another, Bea wondered. Maybe the blonde had said something that agitated the desk clerk, or vise versa. It wouldn't be the first time her coworkers had said something not so positive about her behind her back. 

“You've been lying to me about Allie since that night in the car, when you were grinning all strangely, and you've been doing it since. Dad may not notice, but I do. While you're washing the dishes, stirring sauces. Bizarre moments, if you ask me.” She glanced over at her mother. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“Why didn't you tell me how bad things were getting for you?” Bea countered. 

“I was scared,” Debbie answered. “You already have to deal with so much.”

Bea was ashamed of herself. Her own daughter didn't want to confide in her, fearing that her mother was too overwhelmed as it was. It was true, she did deal with a lot being married to Harry. That was obvious. But she never wanted her daughter to think that she couldn't be a mother to her. With all those years of having to endure being raised in a violent home, however, she could see why her attempts at hiding the truth may have failed. 

She pulled one of Debbie's hands into her own. “No matter what's going on, know that you can always come to me. I love you more than anything. Anything,” she stressed. “You have to know that.”

“Why didn't you tell me about Allie then, or ask me about my exam after Ms. Mitchell called you, or ask me days ago if I took the camera? Why didn't you even tell me that you were planning to go to the police again?” the teen asked, voice growing shrill. 

“I guess we've both been scared,” Bea said, staring down at their hands. “After the last time with the cops, I didn't want to have to involve you again.”

“But I promised to help you.”

“You shouldn't've had to, Debbie. It's my job to protect you, and keep you safe. I do a shit job of it as it is.”

“No,” Debbie said, squeezing her mother's hand. “You don't.”

Debbie was the second person to tell her that lately, but hearing it from her daughter's lips made it much more real. She knew that Harry had victimized her over the years, and that those feelings of being trapped, and worthless weren't unique to her situation. Those facts had eventually bought her comfort. Never had that rid her of the guilt she felt as a mother, allowing her daughter to be subjected to the trauma of seeing her father behave such a way, and her mother not stopping it. Debbie's words wouldn't completely convince her either, but it still felt good. With everything that was happening, she had to have done something wrong. Skipping school, failing exams, getting pretty drunk from the smell of it; things were not going smoothly for the teen. 

Bea cleared her throat. “I could do better.” She remembered Allie telling her to be brave, and to be what Debbie needed. “We can't keep on this way with your father.”

“I know, you're right,” Debbie said. “Really, I don't know how much more of it I can take either.”

Bea wondered what that meant for the teen. She guessed it would be more of the disappointing behaviors that she still blamed herself for. Then Debbie might not graduate, and what would happen to her? Getting away would still be possible, but their dreams of her going to university and doing so well for herself that she never had to look back, those might not be an option if things continued on as they had. With the way Harry was acting, who knows what was brewing, and Bea's temper hadn't been getting better when it came to the man. Debbie's story about him yelling at her wouldn't ease any of that anger. She remembered that night weeks ago, when she'd looked over at the knife after he'd hit her. They had to get out. 

“We won't have to deal with it much long,” Bea said, looking over at her daughter with sympathetic eyes. “I'm going to file for a divorce, and we're going to get on with our lives. You'll finish school, go to university, and everything will be good.”

“And Allie?” The teen held her mother's gaze. “You still haven't told me where you got that bruise.”

She'd hoped she wouldn't have to explain that. Once she'd left Harry, she was sure she'd never have to explain another bruise again. That night had been a fluke. Bumping into Allie's client that night didn't mean it would be a reoccurring thing. “It wasn't her,” she said again, but she struggled to say much else. “She's a –“ Friend? Mistress? Client? Her girlfriend? The word itself made Bea cringe. She wasn't some fifteen year old girl, and neither was Allie. But thinking of the blonde as her mistress didn't seem right either. They'd kissed, and done other things....

Her cheeks reddened.

“Ah see. You've got that look, and your cheeks are all red. You're on with her, aren't you?”

Bea shook her head. “No,” she said, but she couldn't keep eye contact and she could feel her cheeks grow warmer. 

“You so are. Oh this is weird,” the teen said, sitting back on the bed. “And not because she's a woman, either.”

“No?” Bea asked, eyes shooting to her daughter. 

Debbie laughed. “No. It's weird because you're my mum.”

Those words made Bea smile. She wasn't sure what she ever expected to tell Debbie, because she hadn't thought much about telling her at all. It wasn't like she'd thought anything of it back then, when she'd first met Allie. The blonde was just some flirtatious stranger, who seemed homeless at the time. But that those nights felt so far away at that point. She hadn't thought of Allie eating off the ground for quite a while. 

“What's she like?” Debbie asked, pulling Bea out of her thoughts. 

They still needed to talk about Debbie's behavior, where she had been the night before, her exam failure, all of that. Bea knew she wouldn't be telling her daughter about Allie being a prostitute, or the blonde's issues with drugs, especially with the teen's rebelling. But she was going to tell her about how much Allie made her smile, and laugh. How strong she was despite everything, and how kind even when it wasn't necessarily reciprocated. Whether that would be enough to put an end to Debbie's questions, and for how long, she didn't know. 

//////////////////////////

Later that day Bea came back in from having her lunch in the car. She had made a few phone calls to divorce lawyers around the city, hoping to find one that was cheap and reasonable. It wasn't easy, especially since she wasn't planning on using his abusing her to get him put in jail, making the divorce all the more plausible. Debbie's naively thinking that she didn't want her father to suffer, to know he was rotting away in jail, though Bea doubted that he'd get much time, had led her to try the more civil route. How he'd react to it, she wasn't entirely sure but she was willing to take the risk. To test the waters, as they say. 

Passing Jo at the front desk, she eyed the woman suspiciously and wondered why the woman hadn't told her that Debbie had stopped by. There was something about her that Bea didn't like, and it was beyond the annoyance she felt towards her other coworkers for their gossiping, and two-faced nature. She decided she'd have to have a talk with her sometime soon. A calm and mature one, she hoped, but she wasn't too optimistic. 

“Michelle,” she said, approaching the youngest hairdresser in the shop. The woman had just finished with a client and was doing a half ass job sweeping her area. She looked completely surprised by Bea's approaching her. Not unusual. “I was wondering if you maybe had any open slots tomorrow?”

“Uh, I'm not sure,” the woman said, drawing out each word. “Why?”

“Got an appointment tomorrow, it's a family thing. Mind taking over a few of my clients?” she asked, making sure her face was kind but slightly nonchalant. Being too needy around a group of women also wasn't helpful in dealing with them, Bea had learned. They could smell the weakness there. “I'd owe you one.”

“Hmm,” Michelle hummed, considering the offer for a few moments. 

Bea noticed that a few of the other women were also looking at them, some over their clients heads, some just outright. Had it been that long since she'd really interacted with them, outside of saying she'd close up? 

“Sure. I've got a thing coming up next week and everyone else is pretending to be too busy to handle a few of mine,” she said, glaring at the women that were staring. “Just tell Jo to add them to my schedule.”

After a quick nod, and thanks, Bea walked over to her station. She looked over to Jo who she was sure heard some of the conversation anyways. Michelle wasn't trying to be subtle or quiet in any way, it wasn't her style. But having Jo watching so carefully, and her being the one she'd have to adjust the schedule with, made Bea feel a bit uneasy. She couldn't pinpoint why exactly but maybe Allie had been right about the woman deserving a bit of sass and attitude. 

The blonde had messaged her earlier that day to say that she was thinking about her. Nothing too flirtatious or teasing, just those simple words. Bea had responded in kind, wishing her day wasn't so occupied. She'd thought about asking Allie to have lunch with her, but those phone calls needed to be made and the likeliness of her getting anything done with the blonde around was slim. 

She still couldn't believe it. Any of it. From their first meeting, to their first drink. Each moment seems further from being real after their time at the hotel. Life had never been so open to her. Indulging in anything she wanted seemed to be something of fairy-tales. Other than seeing her daughter graduate, she hadn't wanted much else. Now there wasn't just a something she wanted, but a someone, and in ways she'd never wanted anything. She had never yearned for someone's touch, or to hear their voice. To see their smile, or feel their lips on her skin. Allie had pulled back a layer of herself she thought had been missing from her DNA. Allie hadn't even really touched her, and yet every part of her felt like she had. 

Once she was done with her final client of the day, she stepped outside to get some air and call the blonde. The phone rang twice before she picked up. 

“Miss the sound of my voice already?” she asked. 

Bea tried to contain the smile on her face even though Allie wasn't there to see it anyways. “Maybe.”

“That's a yes,” Allie laughed.

She sounded tired and Bea remembered the way the blonde had looked that morning when she left. There were dark circles forming under her eyes, a thin sheen of sweat though she hadn't felt very hot. “You okay?” Bea asked. 

Allie didn't answer for a moment. She cleared her throat. “Just feeling a bit sick. Didn't get much sleep last night.”

The grin could be heard. For a second Bea was wrapped up in the implications, but didn't let them distract her from the first part of what Allie had said. She was sick. Any kind of excitement she felt couldn't override the concern that she felt. “Where are you? You back at the roommate house of horrors?”

“Still at the hotel. Decided to keep the room for one more night. Don't want to get my roommates sick. Not that it wouldn't be funny as hell.”

“Sure.” Bea looked around her. She was close to the spot where she'd stood in the picture Debbie had taken of them, Allie staring up at her with those inquisitive eyes. “I'm going to stop by.”

“Bea, no. Really, it's not that--”

“Don't argue,” Bea said, cutting the woman off. “I'll be there soon.”

Allie sighed, but didn't actually sound put off. “Alright, see you soon.”

Bea walked back into the shop and directly over to the front desk. “Just finished up my last client, so I'm going to leave a bit early today.”

Jo scoffed. “Okay?”

“And I need you to move my final two clients on the list for tomorrow over to Michelle's. I'll let the women know,” she said, watching Jo carefully. The woman's eyes had narrowed as she spoke, head tilted slightly. There were questions rolling through her head, Bea could see it. “Do we have a problem?” Bea asked. 

“No,” the woman shrugged, picking up her pen. “No problem. Your life, your business.”

“You're right,” Bea said, leaning on the counter top. “It is my business, so the next time someone comes along asking you where I am, you tell them to just give me a call, yeah?” Her tone was more stern, more so than she expected even from herself. Typically she faltered a bit when trying to put her foot down with anyone, the rarity that was. Her eyes would bounce around the room, hands tense. This time her stare was steady, her hands still on top of the counter. Jo nodded without saying another word, and Bea tapped the counter top with her palms. “Good.”

She grabbed all of her things, swept her area a bit and confirmed with Michelle one more time before she left, not caring about how many eyes were on her. They could say what they wanted, gossip all they wanted. Nothing could touch her with everything was lining up so well. 

The hotel was a bit busier during the day, and Bea was grateful for not having to approach the clerk to ask questions. She remembered how to get the room, of course, but stood for a moment at the door. 

“You ever going to knock.”

Bea jumped. It was Allie from inside, mocking her nervousness as usual. “Eventually.”

“Should I wait to open the door then?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just open the door already.”

The locks clicked out of place and the blonde cracked the door open, peeking into the hallway. “You sure?”

“I'm sure,” Bea said as she pushed her hands into her jean pockets. Allie opened the door further so Bea could walk in, grinning down at her, sick and all. With the night that they'd had in that room Bea wasn't surprised that her stomach fluttered insanely as she walked past the blonde. 

Allie closed and locked the door and then walked over to Bea. She placed her hands on Bea's waist, stepping into her space. There was little hesitation in her movements as she leaned down and softly kissed Bea on the lips. “You didn't have to come.”

Bea fought the bit of awkwardness she felt, placing her hands on the blonde's biceps. She squeezed them for a moment and then moved her hands to the blonde's neck and hairline. “That almost sounded like a thank you.” She studied the circles beneath the woman's eyes. “You are a bit warm now.”

“Probably shouldn't be rubbing yourself all on me then, should you?” Allie joked, dropping her arms and starting to walk away but Bea's fingers caught her own. 

There was that look again that Bea swore hinted at a bit of amusement. She leaned upwards to kiss the blonde, taking a moment to enjoy the soft, plumpness of them. The heat radiating off the blonde wasn't as comforting knowing it was from a temperature, but it still felt nice. 

“Teenage daughter remember? Germs can't scare me away after having been pooped on.”

“Ew,” Allie laughed. They kissed for a few more moments, then Allie kissed Bea on the forehead and went over to the bed in the room. She took the light jacket she was wearing off before sitting on the bed and patting the spot beside her. When Bea sat down, Allie took one of her hands into hers. “I didn't think I'd see you again so soon.”

“Why?” Bea asked, watching and feeling her hand being turned over, palm tickled by spongy fingers. Allie just shrugged at the question. Having looked to the blonde's face then, Bea noticed that Allie wasn't attempting to make as much eye contact in that moment, or to answer the question. “You probably should be lying down, don't you think?”

“I've been in bed for hours. That, or puking my guts out. Sitting up will be good for my already horrible posture, anyways.” She looked over at Bea. “I'm just glad you didn't bring any soup like products with you.”

Bea smiled, her worrying only increasing. Allie's skin was pale, and it sounded like the blonde wasn't eating enough, or able to keep down what she did eat. If she continued feeling unwell Bea was sure a soup like product would be making an appearance. “You''ve got to eat something sometime.”

Allie faux gagged. “Careful. You think poop is bad. Projectile vomiting from an adult might surprise you.”

“Never heard of morning sickness?” Bea asked, remembering many mornings where she'd been grossed out by herself. No one should be capable of puking so much. “I could tell you stories...”

“Please don't,” Allie said. “At least not today. Gotta make sure I can stomach all of that.” She took a few moments to stare down at their hands, fingers moving around and in between Bea', then she looked up and met Bea's eyes. “You really didn't have to come. Thank you.”

“Ah, there it is,” Bea teased. She opened her mouth to continue but hesitated, the words on the tip of her tongue. “After everything you've done for me...I don't mind, at all.”

Allie smiled. “Still cloudy from that orgasm, eh?”

“Shut up,” Bea said, playfully swatting at the hands holding hers, but she placed her hand right back into them afterwards. The pain in her face, and warmth were something Bea could only associate with Allie, and it felt so good to have these moments among the drama of her family life. Sickness and all. “I mean it. You've been,” Bea stopped and took a breath. “Wonderful.”

“Wow. Might end up puking anyways.” Allie placed a hand on Bea's cheek, for a second. “Kidding. You're sweet. Sweeter than anyone's ever been to me, especially when they have heir own shit going on. How is Debbie, by the way? Did you get home to find her snuggled up in bed after a long night of studying?” Allie asked, going back to looking down at their hands. 

Bea wondered what that was about, the lack of eye contact suddenly. Typically the blonde only lost her bravado when something serious, possibly dark crossed her mind. When she talked about her parents she barely looked at Bea at all. She could understand why. Those weren't thoughts that anyone would love to indulge in, unless they were already so fucked that they could revel in their own misery. Allie pretended like she could do such things. That she could take a dark memory or moment and turn it completely on its head, standing more erect in its rubble. To a certain extent Bea could see that it was true. Allie was definitely the type of person who was strong despite what she had gone through, but it had also left her tremendously wounded. In those moments when Allie's eyes wouldn't meet hers, Bea could see that. 

“Quite the opposite actually. We got home at the same time.”

One of Allie's brows rose. “Shit.”

“She literally ran into the house when I told her to stop, and then cursed at me for the first time ever. A fantastic welcoming home, as you could imagine.”

Allie continued to toy with her hand, eyes primarily focused there. “From Debbie's prospective, sure. Been there, done that. A slam of the door here, a good telling off there. It's all a days work for a hormone pumped teenager. What excuses did she give?”

Excuses? She thought back to her conversation with her daughter that morning. There had been minimal excuses that Bea would label as such. Debbie's at home life was a reason for misbehavior, not an excuse. At least, that's what she figured. 

“Were they that horrible?” Allie asked, with a slight laugh. 

Bea shook her head. “She said things at home have been getting to her lately. More than she expected them to.”

“Alright,” Allie said, nodding. “But did she apologize after she'd told you what she'd been up to all night or was it more attitude and sass and pointing the finger at you?” Not hearing Bea respond right away the blonde turned to look at her, eyes serious. “She didn't even tell you where she'd been, did she? Or what she'd been up to?”

Bea shook her head again, the questions echoing through her mind. “No.” Debbie hadn't said a single word about it, and she hadn't demanded to know. After the teen explained how confused and conflicted she'd been, Bea had primarily focused on that. Neither one of them had gone into detail on what they had been doing that night. 

“I'm not sure you had the conversation you should have had then, Bea. Debbie was wrong for what she did. She might not be able to always understand that, because teenagers are dumb, sorry even your lovely one can't be all that smart, but you have to let her know she can't do those types of things. “

“I know,” Bea said, quietly.

“I know you do. And I get that you feel guilty. Being in a home with even just one shit parent can be really rough on a kid, even if they aren't physically abusive. I can attest to that, and I have a feeling you could too,” Allie said, with a sigh. “You aren't the problem here though. He is.”

“There's no way I could ever truly believe that I couldn't have done something sooner. Left him, at least. I'd been taking photos of all the bruises over the last couple weeks.” Minus the black eye she had to cover before going to work, which she didn't bring up then. “They were going to be my evidence against Harry, without needing Debbie's testimony. At least, I hoped. Anyways, I thought the camera was hidden, but it was gone the other day when I checked my hiding spot.”

“So you do have hiding spots all over your house?” Allie asked.

Bea overlooked the question. “Debbie took the camera so Harry couldn't find it. She showed me the photos this morning and there was a picture of us in the stack.”

“What?” Allie asked, with a deep frown. “How's that even possible?”

“She took it when she brought the camera to my shop to give to me. Would have let me know she was skipping classes too.” Debbie had tried to turn to her that day, and instead of being there at the shop eating lunch like she always did, she'd left with Allie. They'd even arrived back a little late, technically. Bea wondered how differently the following days would have been. 

Allie stood up from the bed, slowly dropping Bea's hand so she could walk around the room. It took a moment for Bea to realize that the blonde was pacing, mind working as she stared at nothing at each turn. “What did you tell her?” she asked, crossing her arms and scratching at her left one.

Bea was surprised to hear how small Allie sounded, confused by it even. “I told her that you were funny, and beyond kind to me. That you've been there for me when I've needed you recently. I told her the truth.”

“So you told her that I was a prostitute who's addicted to heroin, and that I'm the reason you're sporting that black eye you've got covered up?” Allie asked, angrily. She scoffed and began to pace again. “This is so fucked,” she mumbled, then her hand was over her mouth and she lurched once. “Oh no,” she said, running into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. 

The sound off Allie throwing up made Bea cringe. All of what the blonde had said was a shock. It was true, she knew it. Though she hadn't known the specifics of Allie's addiction. She realized then what kind of sick Allie was, and it wasn't anything transmittable through kissing or touching. Bea didn't move for a long while, her senses dulling out the sound of splashing in the toilet bowl. Then she found herself standing up and walking over to the bathroom door. 

She knocked twice. “Allie?”

“Don't come in. I'll be out in a moment,” the blonde somehow managed, but her voice was weak and shaky. 

Bea put her hand on the knob and took a deep breath. “I'm coming in.”

“Please--” Allie didn't finish her sentence. Sitting on the floor with her knees to her chest already, she ducked her head, so Bea couldn't see her face. 

Bea could see that that light sheen on Allie's skin had turned into a full on sweating. She reached and flushed the toilet, making sure not to look at the contents inside. There were a few small towels hanging up by the sink, so she grabbed one of them next and wet it with cold water, then she kneeled down beside Allie. She pushed some of the woman's hair aside, wiping at what little bits of skin she could see. 

“I'm a fucking mess, alright.” Allie said, voice muffled by her legs. “This isn't something you should be dealing with right now. My shit is toxic.” She flinched away, and stared at Bea in disbelief. “Don't you get it? I'm fucked up.”

“And I'm' not?” Bea sked. “Honestly, I'm pretty sure everyone's fucked up one way another. You're not any worse than--”

“How could you know that, hmm?” she moved to sit back against the tub, resting her elbows on her knees. “You have no idea what I've done, where I've been. With who.” She scoffed. “I shouldn't have ever gone back to your shop and pushed the way that I did.”

Those words hurt. Hearing any kind of regret from the blonde hurt, because she didn't regret anything. She may have been distracted, and things may have gotten carried away in a sense, but for the first time in Bea's life she had indulged herself in ways that made life seem no where near as bleak as it once was. No, it hadn't suddenly put it in to all of her problems, but their meeting had certainly added to her life and not taken away from it like almost everything else had. 

“You don't mean that,” Bea said, sitting down. She leaned against the door, let the cold tiles ground her.

“I can't even stay sober,” she said, wiping at her eye quickly. “My own parents couldn't even stand me, and it wasn't all them. Who the fuck could manage someone like me? All the sneaking, and the lying. Add prostitution into the mix and you get clients tracking you down on the night that you somehow thought you may be able to find a bit of normalcy in you life.”

Bea remember the impact of the man's shoulder against her eye, and how it felt falling to the ground in that moment. Months before any kind of encounter like that would have left her catatonic, weeks before she wouldn't have even been able to approach the man no matter who he was attacking, unless it was her daughter. 

“He didn't ruin anything for me that night, Allie,” Bea said. 

“I don't see how it couldn't have, considering everything you're going through. Having someone like me around isn't going to help anything.”

“That's not true,” Bea said, shaking her head. She moved across the floor to sit beside Allie, not deterred by the blonde moving a few inches away, hugging her knees with her arms. Bea slowly reached for one of those tightly gripping arms, rubbing her hand along it a little before pulling it towards her. Allie's hand was clammy. She thought of all the times her hands had sweat when the blonde was around. “You've done so much for me.”

“Oh yeah, taking you out to drink alcohol. Keeping you from focusing primarily on your daughter, seducing you while you're dealing with an abusive husband.” Allie laughed bitterly. “I'm your everyday hero, me.”

Her hand remained limp in Bea's hand, as an act of protest the older woman gathered. It shook slightly. “Maybe you are. Heros aren't really aliens with superpowers, or rich men hiding up in mansions. They're people who've been fucked over by life, and decide to help someone anyways, sticking up for what they know is right. I see that now, after going so long thinking, nah everyone is out for themselves and truly don't give a damn. No one ever gave a damn about me anyways.” Allie was looking down so Bea ducked her head to try to meet her eyes. “Except you.”

“I'm sure that isn't true,” Allie whispered. 

“If they did, I never knew about it. You made sure that I knew. Without judging me, or lecturing me.” She thought back to that first night. “When we met I wasn't really just trying to be a good person by giving you that money. I was scared. Years of being with Harry,” she paused. “You don't mess up like that without consequences. I did judge you when I saw you eating off the ground, and again when I saw you with that man, Derek, and realized you were a prostitute. Still, there you were again and again.”

Allie wiped at her face again, and Bea figured she was at least on the right track. “And it's not just the cheeky grins, or the flirty messages, or the ridiculous sounds you make while I wash your hair, or even what you gave me last night. It's the way you care for me. How gentle you are, and how you let me just be myself. You can't think that being prostitute or an addict is enough for me to forget all that.”

“It's all anyone else can see, so why not? I mean, really, you're just so vulnerable with everything that's happening with your husband that--”

“Enough,” Bea said, knowing where the blonde was going with that statement. Her shit life wasn't Allie's responsibility either, and yet the blonde had been there. She'd opened the doors to new possibilities simply by making herself available to Bea, and encouraging her to be stronger. Seeing her, and telling her it was okay to be who she was.

Allie's eyes had shot towards her then, and were still focused on hers. Bea squeezed the hand in hers. “Don't say anything you'll truly regret later,” she told the younger woman.

“I'm sorry,” Allie said, letting the tears in her arms be seen. “The thought of someone as good as you letting someone like me into your life...” her words trailed, and she shook her head. Her eyes were sad. Nothing like those playful eyes that pulled Bea further and further out of her shell usually. “You deserve so much better than this.”

“So do you,” Bea said. “Let's get you in bed.”

Allie nodded and accepted Bea's help getting to her feet, and leaned on her a little as they walked back tot he bed. She kept glancing over at Bea, eyes shining despite the dullness there. Whether it was still just from held in tears, or they were actually glossy Bea couldn't be sure but she allowed the woman to have the moment. It wasn't until Allie was in bed under just the sheet despite her feeling cold thanks to the fever, that she openly stared at the woman, looking over her features. 

“You're going to be fine,” she said, rubbing her hand along Allie's forearm. 

The blonde continued to stare at her. She looked so grateful, and relieved to be lying down, but more than that her eyes were filled with a certain tenderness as she looked up at Bea. It was unnerving like many of Allie's stares, but the look in her eyes then made Bea feel something deep within her gut. Every moment with Allie led to new feelings and sensations, thoughts even, but this look was different. Soft and yet penetrating, steady and yet vulnerable. 

“Lie with me for a bit?” she finally asked.

“Of course,” Bea said, offering a small smile. She kicked off her shoes and then climbed in next to Allie. The blonde continued to watch her the entire time, until she was finally settled beside her. They looked at each other for a while, then Allie turned over and pulled Bea's arm around her. Sweat and all, Bea closed her eyes at the sweet smell of Allie's hair, and the feel of Allie's back pressing into her. Many minutes passed without either one of them saying a word, though Bea had many questions and wanted to make sure Allie believed what she'd said in the bathroom. When Allie's breathing didn't change she was on the verge of speaking, unfortunately her phone went off before she could ask the blonde what she was thinking. 

She knew who it was without getting up. It was a week day, after all, and she had a kid.“I have to go,” Bea said, hugging the blonde close before she got up. She put on her shoes and then went over to Allie, leaning over to kiss her softly on the lips. When she pulled back it was to see that intense gaze had returned and Bea felt compelled to lean back down for one more kiss, blushing when the blonde's lips chased hers. “You're going to be okay, right?” she asked, hating that she had to leave but also feeling the urge to check in with her daughter. 

“I'll be fine. Go,” Allie said. “We'll talk later.”

Bea walked to the door and looked back one more time, glad to see that Allie's eyes were starting to fall. She thought maybe the blonde would finally get some sleep.

///////////////////////////

The next day Bea had dropped Debbie off at school and went into work for a few hours, before heading over to the Family Court to talk to a divorce lawyer on staff. She'd been lucky enough to get in on a canceled appointment time at the last moment. The wait room had a few more people in it, but not too many. One woman with her four kids who were a bit loud. Bea had been anticipating the appointment all morning, distracted as she'd seen the only two clients she had time for earlier that day. Not going into a police station did make it the process less stressful, and she hoped not to make Debbie suffer through knowing that one of her parents was rotting in jail. Even if that was exactly what Bea wanted. 

“Bea Smith,” a woman called, stopping out of her office. She was a short brunette, skirt suit a bit ruffled, but her voice was smooth and inviting. “Smith,” she said again.

“H-here,” Bea said, standing and raising her hand. The woman stepped aside to let her into her office, which was cluttered with paperwork and family photos. Smiles littered the room. “I appreciate you letting me have your canceled slot,” Bea said, taking a seat.

The woman sat behind her desk, her chair making her seem a little taller than she was, name plate gleaming with the name Tina Kaufman. “No problem. I prefer to keep my day in line with what I expect when I walk in. Hopefully I can provide any information you need, and help you through this process. Now, you're wanting to file for a divorce, correct?”

“Yes. My husband and I have been married for a long time, unhappily, as I told your secretary. I'm pretty sure neither one of us loves the other, and we're not happy, so I think it's time,” Bea said. 

Tina nodded a few times, and reached into her desk for some paper work. “Well, you've come to the right place. Have you been separated the required amount of months?” she asked, looking through the papers. 

Bea frowned. “Separated, no. Technically we haven't been separated, but I wouldn't exactly say we've been married either. Not for a long time, if ever really.”

After putting on her thin rimmed glasses, Tina looked over the rims at Bea. “Do you live in the same house, sleep in the same bed?” Bea nodded, and Tina continued. “Do you cook him meals, and wash it clothes? Sounds pretty married to me.”

“Mostly yes, but--”

“Look, I'm not saying you haven't been unhappy or that your marriage hasn't been over for as long as you feel it's been. It's just easier to get this all handled when you've gone through the steps that the court recognizes, when leading up to divorce.” She sat back in her chair with a sigh. “Unfortunately getting a divorce here typically means you have to be separated for twelve months, to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that you can't fix the marriage. Special circumstances can sometimes speed the process up, but again they're very specific to the courts and what they recognize as a marriage incapable of being saved.”

That was a lot of words, most of which Bea understood meant to say she couldn't get this done as quickly as she had hoped. “What are the special circumstances?”

“Well, has he cheated on you?” Tina asked. 

Bea shook her head, and decided not to ask what it meant if she had instead. More than likely it would make Harry look like the better person, she knew. “Not that I know of.”

“Does he have any kind of substance abuse problems that prohibits him from being a quote-unquote good husband, or a fit father?” 

“Actually, he just got demoted at his job because of his drinking problem. I don't know the details of what happened exactly, but it was enough to have him lowered in position at a job he's had for a long time. Most of his coworkers are his mates, and he gets along pretty well with his boss. Something had to have happened.”

Tina wrote that down. “This could be good. And you yourself don't have any kind of substance abuse problems, do you? No kind of criminal record or anything, for either one of you?”

“No. There was an incident when my daughter was young, but no report was filed against him.”

Tina's pen stopped. She looked at Bea over her glasses again, making Bea squirm in her chair. “What kind of incident?”

They were stepping into territory Bea was hoping to avoid. If she told the truth about what happened that night, and her lawyer saw it fit for them to use it in court, Debbie would have to testify to confirm what Bea said was true. During her last stretch of schooling, just when she was becoming overwhelmed by it all. Scared of her dad going to father, and feeling ashamed for caring at all. 

“Nothing really. I just fell and Debbie was behind me, so her arm fractured. The cops had to be called since she was a little girl, but like I said, no official report was filed or anything.”

“Alright.” Her lips were pulled into a thin line. It was obvious that she didn't buy it, but she was going to leave it alone. “What's important then is that we contrast the two of you. I can try to see if any judge will take it without the twelve month stipulation, or any special circumstances, but you can never know. It does cost quite a bit of money to get this done. Around nine hundred just to file.”

“What?” Bea asked, shocked. She'd saved up some money, but not thinking she'd have to spend ever bit on filing for a divorce. 

“I'm guessing you didn't know that,” Tina said, with a sympathetic smile. “If say, Harry were to be in jail,” she paused seeing Bea's eyes widen. “Not only would that lower your fine to about three hundred, it would also give a judge reason to believe your marriage isn't savable. Think about it,” she said, putting her papers away. “Then come back and see me. Otherwise, you'll probably have to get separated from your husband and wait it out.”

Bea got up, thanking the woman for seeing her again. It wasn't until she was outside that she could really breath, and think again. How could she have been so naive? Getting a divorce form someone you no longer wanted to be with should have been pretty easy and cheap no matter what, if you asked her, but twelve months and nine hundred dollars – absolutely ridiculous. There was no way she could bring up separating to Harry without him losing his shit. Getting served divorce papers would already make him go nuts, but at least it would be out there and his reactions would just further prove they shouldn't be together. At least he'd see that she truly meant it. Now she wasn't sure what she was going to do. Waiting wasn't an option. 

She looked at the time on her phone. There were a few more hours before she had to pick up Debbie, so she dialed Allie's number. “Hey, where are you?”

Allie told her to meet her at a small cafe. It was just up the street from the hotel, and she needed to check out anyways, so it was a good spot and time to meet up. She was still pale, but the bags under her eyes had lessened, and she was smiling through that thin layer of sweat that wasn't aided by her jacket, Bea thought. 

“You look a bit better?”

“Really, 'cause I feel about five hundred times worse,” Allie laughed. “Thanks for the flattery though. Got a bit of sleep last night. Had a little to eat this morning,” she said, with a shrug. 

“And you kept it down?” Bea asked. 

“I didn't say that,” Allie said, still smiling. “Enough about all that. You take a late lunch today?”

Bea forgot that the woman actually knew when she had lunch, not that she had planned to keep her visit to the Family Court Office under wraps. “I went and saw a layer today. To file for a divorce.”

Allie put her hand on Bea's forearm. “That's fucking great, Bea. What did they say?”

“Nothing that I actually wanted to hear.”

She told the blonde the details of the appointment, omitting the fact that if she did turn Harry in the lawyer would want to contrast Bea and Harry, and prove Bea to be more fit as a parent. The implications were clear in Bea's head, clearer than anything had been in a long time. Unfortunately, Allie had been right. She was going through withdrawals and spewing self-hatred, but she was right. It wouldn't look good. Allie started to talk about Harry deserving to go to jail, Debbie being old enough to understand that she needed to get away from all of that. Bea wondered if things were that clear cut and logical when emotions were involved. 

“I'll figure it out, don't worry,” Bea said, placing a hand on top of Allie's. “Now, what do I have to do to get you to eat some more.” It was her attempting to drop it, and lighten the mood a bit. Everything was so heavy as it was, and Bea wanted to be able to enjoy her time with Allie, even if she was trying to take care of her at the same time. 

“What, runway models aren't your type?” 

They were able to fall into a natural rhythm from their, joking mostly. Allie took small bites of the food she ordered while complaining about how horrible it was going to be to move back in with so many people. Bea mostly listened, laughing at the imitations of the ridiculous conversations Allie had to endure, living with so many people. She placed her hand on Bea's leg, but never skipped a beat, and Bea again realized how far she'd come because of the woman beside her. Yet she worried. What if she did have to report Harry, and Debbie had to testify, and she needed to save face by keeping a squeaky clean image to satisfy some judge?

Her eyes traveled across Allie's face, and in that moment she couldn't imagine not having her there. To help her get through her divorce, and start a new life afterwards. How could a judge know who Allie was, if all they knew was what she did for a living and that she was an addict? People made up their mind about someone so quickly. Never asking, how or why the person is that way. Sometimes its okay not to ask. Bea had stopped asking why when it came to Harry years ago, but with Allie, the why was everything. She was a beautiful, loving young woman who deserved to have someone look at her and see more than a prostitute, or a junkie. Her history was one of struggle. She could have been dead, after being abandoned by her parents and left to fend for herself, and there she was pushing on instead. 

“What's with the staring?” Allie asked. 

Bea ducked her head. “You're one to talk.”

The hand on her thigh flexed and relaxed, thumb caressing. “You're right,” Allie said, leaning towards Bea's ear. “I love looking at you.” She kissed the side of Bea's head, and turned back to her food. 

Bea convinced Allie to take the rest of her uneaten food for later, but couldn't convince her to accept a ride when they finished. Their kisses to the cheek wasn't nearly enough as they said goodbye, but Bea knew they'd see each other again soon and would rectify that desire for more affection. It was time to go pick up the only other person Bea really cared about.

Debbie was sitting on a bench outside of her school, an image that made Bea smile, despite the boredom written all over the girl's face. “Good talk with your teacher?” she asked. Ms. Mitchell had agreed to have a private talk with Debbie after school, ignoring the amount of time it took for the teen to finally come talk to her. 

“I don't know if I'd describe it as good,” the teen said, squinting. “Let's just say, I'll be buried in homework for the rest of the term.”

“Good,” Bea said. “Seems like that's exactly what you need.”

Debbie laughed. “You would say that. One mistake and suddenly--”

“I'm not really convinced it was just one mistake, Debbie,” Bea said, turning on her signal. She looked both ways and slowly turned. “But, if you do what Ms. Mitchell says, and you start talking to me again so I can trust you, then we won't need to worry about what's happened in the past. Will we?” she asked, glancing at the teen while at a stop sign. 

Debbie stared at her for a moment, and then turned forward again. “No. We won't,” she said, looking out the window. She started to fidget with her hands in her lap. “How was your meeting with that lawyer?”

Bea sighed. “It was not what I hoped it would be. Just filing for a divorce costs a lot of money if you don't qualify for a reduction. Then they want you to be separated for twelve months.”

“Why?”

“In case I change my mind,” Bea said, sarcastically. “They're just trying to help me, in case I don't know what I want.” Debbie looked over at her for a second, and Bea took a breath. “There's no way your father will agree to a separation. I'm not even sure he'll agree to a divorce.”

“What are you going to do?” Debbie asked, her voice small.

Bea pulled into their driveway, and then their garage. Harry was home, nothing unusual. It was just getting harder and harder to get out of her car when she pulled into that garage. When Debbie was there it was easier, but not easy. “I don't know yet?”

“What did Allie say?” the teen asked. 

Bea looked over at Debbie, the girl just looking out the window still. “That I deserve better.”

“She's right,” Debbie said, before getting out of the car.

Bea did the same, following close behind her daughter. So close that she bumped into the back of her when she suddenly stopped when they got to the kitchen. Harry was sitting at the table. He had both his elbows on top of it, hands together in front of his mouth. There was no beer on the table, a surprise to Bea because he typically started drinking as soon as he got home from what she could gather. 

“Where were you today, Bea?” Harry asked, his eyes on her. “Went to your shop. They told me you left early today.”

Apparently she hadn't been as stern as she thought with Jo. Not that Harry would have called her to ask where she was. 

Bea started to answer, but he cut her off. 

“And this Allie client,” he spat. “You're friends with street whore junkies now?”

Debbie turned to her with questioning eyes, but Bea didn't was so thrown off by what Harry was saying that she couldn't think of what exactly to say. The teen stormed off into her room, slamming the door behind her. Bea rolled her eyes at the girl and turned back to Harry.

He was still staring at her, attempting to level her with his gaze. She crossed her arms. “It's true.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is near! Sorry to report it, but the next chapter should be the final one....along with an epilogue. Maybe those two things will come together. Family will be leaving (love them, but thank goodness) so I should be able to write. Then I will take a long, glorious rest. Really hope the chapter was worth the wait, though it wasn't quite as long as last week's chapter. As usual, any mistakes left...it's because I change shit at the last moment, so it's not my wonderful beta's fault. 'Til next time!


	7. Final Push

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The concluding chapter to the fic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Super late here. But, hey! The final chapter is SUPER LONG, and there's a chapter length epilogue to end it all. I want to thank all of you for all of your support, you've all truly been amazing. This fic has really meant a lot to me, and it's been an honor sharing this experience with all of you. Each kudos, comment, bookmark, and subscription has kept me going when I felt like it was impossible and thought that I actually sucked and was fooling myself. I want to dedicate this chapter to my lovely beta, who had to deal with the not so continuous stream that was this chapter, and the epilogue I'd like to dedicate to all of you guys! (Especially Justeene for not so patiently waiting -- No more reloading. Hope you like it.)

Chapter Seven: Final Push

“It's true,” Bea said, crossing her arms. Behind her she could hear Debbie turn on some music in her room, which reminded her so much of earlier days when the girl needed it to block out the sound of Harry beating her. Attitude aside, the teen figured she knew what was to come and Bea thought the same. 

Looking over at Harry sitting at the table, his elbows on the table and hands in front of his mouth, she expected him to stand at any moment. The chair would kick out behind him and suddenly he'd be right in front of her, raised fist. Or maybe just an open palm across the face. Anything to knock her to the ground and put her in her place. Where he'd always wanted her and had her for the most part. This time would be different. Even if he were to hit her and she were to fall to the ground, there would be no more cowering and waiting. Her eyes found those knives on the counter again. She'd been so close all those weeks back, so ready to risk everything just to see him dead. It was foolish then, but what would it be in a moment like the one they were in.? Predators eyes locked on prey.

The fact that he sat so still with his eyes glued to her was unsettling, because she was used to the chaos. She was used to him erupting and letting loose on her, screaming at her all the while. Insulting and demeaning her. But whatever it was that was different about him in that moment didn't entirely matter, because Bea was different too. 

“I've been seeing Allie,” she said. She wanted to test the waters a bit, see what he really knew, what he speculated, how that made him feel as a man. That was what was most important to a guy like Harry, that he felt like a man at all times. She was his wife, his property. 

“Not just a new client after all, eh?” he asked, lowering his hands. “Turns out she suckered you into thinking she wanted to be your friend so you'd take her out to lunch, have drinks with her.” More information about what he knew, more reactions to read. “That's right, I know you haven't been going out with your coworkers. Not that I actually thought they could stand you outside of work anyways. Should've known you were lying.” 

It was the same old stuff, with a splash of Allie in between. He thought it hurt her to think that her coworkers didn't like her, that she didn't have any friends because she was just so damn insufferable. But now she knew it wasn't true. Whatever issues her coworkers had, it wasn't about her. If anything she'd isolated herself by doing what he said when he said it for so long. Coming home when he told her to, sometimes in the middle of a work day way back when. That was so long ago, he had stopped out of boredom probably, but she'd come up with reasons to work later and later anyways. At first to literally stay away from him for as long as possible. 

“I wasn't suckered into do anything,” Bea said, angrily. His brows rose but he still didn't move from his seat. “And you're right, I've been lying to you since you found that note with Allie's number on it.” She wanted to rub it in so much. It had all been right under his nose, and he'd only gotten a clue because one of her coworkers was a blabber mouth? He thought so little of her, tried to convince her that everyone else did too. “What now, hmm? We get a divorce?”

“What?” he scoffed. “A divorce because you're suddenly pathetic enough to pay for friends?” 

Bea studied the man's features, and wondered if he was playing her. Why would she just lie about having a friend? That was nonsense. Sure he'd make fun of her no matter what, but it were something so innocent than they both know it wouldn't have been kept a secret for so long. Surely. “I'm not paying for anything, Harry. Do you seriously not get what's going on?” That question was a mistake. His features straightened. She couldn't turn back then. “Allie and I are not friends.”

“You just said,” he started to say, but seeing her expression he stopped. His brow dipped, head turned in confusion. Then he was laughing. Not just a light chuckle either, but an actual fool blown laugh. 

It was a blow to Bea's gut even if it wasn't a literal punch. She watched as he finally got up from his seat, no chair flying out behind him, no fist ready to slam into her. He actually wiped at an eye as he approached her. 

“What, the two of you are together?” She started to speak but he cut her off, looming over her with a smile on his face. “This whole thing is a joke. You're about as lively and exciting as a dead fish, and you know what I mean by that. You think some street whore wants anything other than cash from you?”

As usual it didn't matter what she said, he'd believe what he wanted to believe. He'd yell and throw a fit, he'd laugh in her face and insult her, and at the end of the day he'd go to bed thinking the same old shit he always did. That was the problem. Nothing would change if it were all up to him, and when she let him warp her reality as such, she was allowing him to do it. Now she didn't have any pity for him though. She didn't care about what he'd gone through as a boy, or about his fragile ego as a result. She didn't care if there was something she could do or not to just make it better in that moment. None of those emotions existed within her anymore. All she felt was hatred, and bitterness. She'd wasted so much of her time, made Debbie endure so much. All because of how trapped he had made her feel. 

“Once she gets what she wants from you she'll be gone, and all you'll have is me just like always. No one else gives a shit about you, Bea. Your own daughter is ashamed of you.”

“At least she isn't scared of me,” Bea said, daring him to deny it. He couldn't. There was no way that he could deny it for a single second. He'd seen the fear in her eyes. As naive as he pretended to be, he knew. 

“I'd never hurt Debbie. Ever,” he said, raising a finger to point it in her face. 

Bea tried not to flinch, or react to the sprays of spit that accented his words. “For now,” she said, calmly. She thought about Debbie telling her that the day she'd come home from school he'd been more angry than he'd ever been with her. All she could think was maybe one day there would be something, some small insignificant thing that would push him over the edge. 

He grabbed her by the arm. “Don't ever suggest that I'd hurt my daughter.”

“Our daughter,” she corrected. Her eyes dropped down to his hands. One was gripping her arm and the other was flexing at his side, itching to hit her. “Just do it already,” she said. If he began to hit her, she'd be done. Forget whatever stress it would add to Debbie's life to have her father in jail. There could be no more unreported beatings. 

His eyes bounced between hers, then he gripped harder. “This, whatever the hell that's going on with you. It ends now,” he said, getting into her face. “We're going to the bedroom and--”

“No,” she said, pulling against him harshly. There was no way she could go into that room with him, not after the conversation they had had. He grabbed her by the other arm and shook her hard, but she kept resisting anyways. “I won't,” she said repeatedly, until he finally just pushed her away from him. Her back hit the couch hard. She gripped onto the back of it tightly, breathing hard as they stared at one another. 

He waved a hand at her. “Fine. Take the fucking couch, see if I care.” 

She watched him walk away, listening for the sound of their bedroom door slamming. Looking down at the couch she thought about all the times he had slept there. Would them not sharing a bed on those nights count enough as separation? She walked around and sat down on it, putting her face into her hands. Debbie's music was still playing, and beginning to give her a headache really. She wanted to knock on her door and tell her to turn it off, to pack her things because they'd be staying in a hotel for a few nights, but then what? If she took those photographs to the cops she could maybe have him arrested, and then they could at least have the house. 

Bea lied back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling as the room slowly darkened. There was no way she could endure twelve months of that. Of any of it. Including Debbie locking herself up in her room for hours just to avoid her. Harry though...He didn't want a divorce, she knew that, but she wasn't sure what else he wanted or knew for that matter. Part of him had to understand what was going on, and yet there she was on the couch. Not bruised and battered. Not suddenly knocking him out and trying to find other ways to kill him that wouldn't lead to her going to jail and Debbie being left without a mother. Everything was off kilter. She needed to come up with a solution. Was it ever even possible to get out of her marriage without involving the police in some fashion?

After a long while she finally got up and walked over to Debbie's bedroom door. She listened to the sound of the music that was still playing, and wondered if the teen had fallen asleep like she had many times as a girl. If Bea went in there and Debbie wasn't sleep she knew the teen would only have questions. There could be no more lying to her. Harry knowing before her was insult enough, but if Bea kept lying, and the trust between them continued to crumble then she wasn't sure how things would turn out period. Harry around or not. Bea could see that it wasn't so easy to get people to see what she saw though. It wasn't like they actually knew Allie. People made up their minds about other people all the time, based off nothing but what has been passed down the rumor mill. They'd heard the words prostitute and junkie, to her annoyance, and had already declared the blonde unworthy. Just like Allie had the day before. 

She walked outside to see there was just a little bit of sunlight left. It wasn't the first time Harry had declared bedtime at an unreasonably early hour, keeping Debbie in her room for him to do whatever he wanted to Bea before passing out. Every once and a while he'd wake up and want something to eat hours later, but that hadn't happened in a while. It didn't mean that it wouldn't if she didn't figure out what she needed to do quickly. 

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she sat down on the porch and dialed that familiar number. Allie answered after a few rings, asking Bea to hold on for a few moments. It was noisy just like the first times Bea talked on to her on the phone, and she hoped it was because the other woman was at home trying to get rest among the pack of housemates. 

“Sorry about that,” Allie said, once the noise died away. “The usual issues with peace and privacy here. Just what I need,” she added, sarcastically. 

Bea wanted to ask if anyone else in the house had a drug problem, but she didn't. It wasn't like she could really give anyone a lesson in moving to better, healthier locations before she could say she was finally done with Harry. 

“That's alright,” she said, instead of asking. Her reason for calling hadn't been to pry. It was like Allie had said before, sometimes she just wanted to hear the sound of the blonde's voice. “Don't forget to keep your shampoo close.”

“What? I was sure you'd let me drop into the shop whenever I wanted now. Be my personal beautician or whatever. I can make all those sounds that you can't stop thinking about, as you give me my massage.”

“I should have never brought that up,” Bea said, laughing and shaking her head. Leave it to Allie to remember that detail out of everything she'd said at the hotel the day before, in the bathroom. Not that she thought the blonde had forgotten everything else. “You do though, it's true.”

Allie laughed. “Please, I'm sure sure you do the same when you're washing your own hair.”

“I do not,” Bea said. 

“Sure, sure,” the blonde said, and Bea could swear that she could hear that cheeky grin shaping each syllable. “After the other night, maybe that'll change.”

“Uh, me starting make obscene noises in the shower? I don't think so,” Bea said, as quietly as possible. She didn't see anyone outside and her neighbors weren't the invasive type, as she'd learned over the years, but she still wasn't used to talking about anything even remotely sexual. Not in person, and not over the phone for sure. “I'll leave that to you.”

“The sounds that I made were never obscene. I always kept it kid appropriate.”

Bea really laughed then.

“Don't laugh. I've been on my best behavior. For the most part.”

“That is so not true.” Bea remembered Allie asking her about her sex life the very first they went out for drinks. The way she'd winked and said she'd just 'got off' as they'd walked into the bar. Her talking about taking her sexuality back after dealing with her clientele. “You're right about the sounds you made at the shop though.” Those sighs and hums of satisfaction. “Nothing too traumatizing.” 

“Traumatizing? Don't try to play hard to get, it's too late for all of that now.”

In more ways than Bea would have ever expected. At some point she couldn't deny that she had wanted something to happen with them. By the time their first happened all of her curiosity and fascination had began to morph into what she couldn't deny as attraction and desire. Maybe not to the extent that it would soon grow into, mostly because she couldn't understand what it was exactly that she wanted. She still wasn't completely sure. But there was no denying that after that night at the hotel especially. The night, she knew, Allie was referencing then. 

“Maybe,” she said, cheeks warm. 

“Definitely,” Allie corrected. “I was there, remember?” Bea was sure that wasn't a real question. “You're blushing aren't you?”

“Why even bother asking?” Bea asked. 

Allie laughed. “Because you're cute when you're flustered, and you happen to get even more embarrassed when I point it out. I wish I could see you now, trying not to smile but failing horribly.”

She was trying, and her face ached because of it. Her mind allowed her to think about a world where Allie could see her. They would be sitting outside together, enjoying the coming night. Allie still will have said something to make her blush, holding one of Bea's hands in hers like she always did. Their shoulders would bump as they joked, and then they'd go inside, having not fought at all. No threat of sleeping on the couch with no sheet and just a small blanket, or an angry teenager misunderstanding their relationship. 

“I wish you were with me all the time now. It's weird,” Allie admitted. 

“Yeah?” Bea asked, chest full after hearing those words. The good life seemed to dangle in front of her, and Allie too. A world where her marriage to Harry could easily be dissolved, and Allie's troubles could melt away. She wanted that so much. 

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “And it's not sexual per se, though I cannot get the other night out of my head. Watching you.”

“You do have a thing for that,” Bea said, starting to pick at the seam of her pant leg. If Allie had been there then she was sure her stupid hands would be sweating, unable to grab and pull at little bits of string. 

Allie hummed. “You have no idea.”

Months before she wouldn't have understood such a sentence. There wouldn't have been any physical or mental sensations to call upon. Maybe a sense of insult because the blonde had dipped back into her defense mechanism by skipping right over her confession and straight to the sexual, but the night that Allie was talking about had allowed her to understand a world that had been cut off from her all of her life. For Allie it wasn't just a crutch, it was a way of surviving when all else left you with a numbing pain.

“There's something about you, Bea Smith. We both know it's not charm, but there is something.”

Bea laughed hard. “Again with the charm. I'm guessing you think walking around with that cheeky grin of yours somehow makes you charming.”

“It is my secret weapon. Don't laugh. I know that you like it.”

There had been moments she'd been caught looking at that grin, and she'd thought about it even when the blonde wasn't around. It was a representation of the confidence she imagined Allie had, though slightly less after hearing what the younger woman thought of herself the other day. Either way the bravado behind it was part of what won Bea over, though not because of it alone. She just couldn't fathom why someone so beautiful, and mysterious was into her then. She understood more after getting to know Allie, of course. 

“I do,” Bea said. “But don't let it go to your head.”

“Too late, sorry. Well, no, not really. I think it should go to my head actually.”

“Only you would think you need an even bigger ego than the one you already have.” She thought again of Allie tearing herself down in the hotel, but knew the younger woman used humor to ease her situation. Part of Allie was that strong, seductive bravado, but the other part of her could be just as insecure as one would expect in her situation. 

“This isn't about ego,” Allie said. 

“Oh yeah, what is it about then?”

The blonde laughed. “Not sure yet. I'll have to get back to you on that.”

“What?” She couldn't remember the blonde ever being vague instead of taking a moment to poke fun at Bea, or be suggestive in some sort of way. 

“More of a face to face type thing, I think. Just means we'll have to see each other soon, won't we.” 

That reminded Bea of why she called the blonde. At least partially. “It might get a little difficult to see each other soon actually,” she said, delicately. “Harry knows, or at least I think he knows. Actually, I'm not exactly what he knows, but I think--”

“Hold on, slow down,” Allie interjected. “What's going on? Why didn't you start with this?”

Bea scoffed. “Oh hey, Allie. I think my husband is in denial about our – whatever this is, an affair? – wanna talk about it?” she asked. 

“Okay, not like that,” Allie said. “What do you mean denial, does he know or not?”

“Yes?”

“That was a question.”

“I told him that we weren't just friends, and he laughed in my face.” If someone had told her months ago that she'd meet some blonde named Allie and begin to have a secret relationship with her, she would have laughed too. Maybe even gotten a little sick to her stomach at the thought, and not for the reasons she would have expected. Knowing the details of their time together, that everything inside of her would slowly come to life, there was no way even thinking about such things wouldn't have entirely overwhelmed her back in the day. How could such a thing be possible, after spending so much of her life living as a shell?

“You told him?” Allie asked. “Like, told him, told him?”

Bea nodded even though she couldn't be seen “I did.”

Allie didn't say anything for a second, and Bea again wished the blonde was there so she could read her expression. Would she be staring over at Bea, or looking down and only glancing over, heavy thoughts flitting through her mind?

“And he...laughed?” Allie eventually asked. “What did he say?,” she said, with concern and sounding a bit agitated. “I'm confused, and worried. If you need me to come get you and Debbie I can find a way.”

“No, don't. That will only make things get out of hand even faster,” Bea said, rubbing her forehead. “He said that it was a joke. Some other things too,” she said, rolling her eyes at his fish comment. “I thought telling him would maybe make him see, I don't know, that there's nothing left of our so-called marriage and he'd want a divorce. But he didn't seem to want that at all.” Not entirely surprising. If he wasn't taking her seriously, or believing that she was cheating on him then she could see him still holding on. Surely he knew, and his ego was rolling around like a wounded animal about to strike one last time. 

Allie laughed bitterly. “That bastard. It's because I'm a woman, isn't it? Most egotistical men think it takes a penis to really have sex anyways. If they only knew.”

Bea didn't even know. Not first-hand anyways. They hadn't actually had sex that night. Both of them were fully clothed and she pretty much did all the work herself, which didn't make it any better really. She was sure that that level of intimacy was a bit much, even for some couples. Of course, Allie would probably think they were prudes, but still. Not everyone was as sexually liberated and blazé, and considering what Allie had said about not expecting to see her again so soon the following night, Bea had a feeling even Allie wasn't as blazé as she pretended to be. She was giving Bea something in that moment, something beyond herself. Bea suspected it was initially a sort of temporary parting gift. Something for Bea to take with her, and because sex was something very intimate and freeing to the blonde, Bea could understand though the thoughts behind it were a bit misplaced. She hadn't been scared off by Derek any more than she'd been scared off by finding out Allie was a prostitute. 

“What are you going to do? There's no way the two of you are safe there, Bea,” Allie said, interrupting her thoughts. She was back to sounding worried and on edge, and Bea felt bad about putting her through anything of the sort as she went through withdrawals. 

“I know we're not,” Bea admitted. “I'm going to do something,” she said, “I'm just not sure what yet.” She had a feeling there wasn't much time to figure it out now that everything was out there. Harry was a bomb waiting to go off. He'd wake up one day, maybe tomorrow, and realize that she – his wife – is actually seeing someone else and he'd try to remind her that was bound to him. If he saw that he couldn't win then....well, she didn't know. They'd never reached a point in which she didn't bend to his will. “Soon though. I'll figure it out.” What that meant exactly, for them and their situation, she wasn't sure. 

////////////////////////

Her night on the couch hadn't included a lot of rest. The few times she did doze off she'd jumped awake, having dreamed that Harry was standing over her about to strike. Even if it had started off well, with Allie there laughing with her and Debbie, the sun shining through the windows....he'd suddenly be there. Bea didn't have to really ask herself what those dreams meant. Her subconscious was being pretty clear, after lying awake for hours racking her head for a solution. She hadn't found one yet. Or, she only had one solution. The only problem was her daughter's reaction to that solution. Debbie's behavior had been so unpredictable lately, though she guessed it shouldn't have been with the way the girl's life had gone. It had all just happened so suddenly. One moment the girl was smiling and laughing, and the next thing she knew she was catching the teen coming home late. Bea needed to get a better grip on the situation, but she didn't know what that meant. 

Luckily, Harry left early that morning and left her and Debbie alone for her to assess the situation. Unfortunately the girl wasn't saying much at all. They'd gone through all of breakfast with barely a word spoken, gotten dressed and ready in silence. When Bea was ready she'd called for Debbie repeatedly only to find the girl already in the car, elbow propped against the door and head in her hand. Her expression spelled royal teenage attitude and Bea couldn't stand it anymore. 

She got into the car and jammed the key into the ignition. “We've gotta talk about this.”

“What, you're gong to start telling the truth now?” the teen asked. 

Bea sat back in her seat, releasing her tight grip on the keys. “You know what, Debbie? At the end of the day, I'm your mother and whether you like it or not you need to show some respect. What your father said about Allie--”

“That's she's a junkie prostitute?”

She took a deep breath. Those words were not getting any easier to hear, especially with such judgment and malice. “Yes, she has an addiction problem and she is a prostitute. Okay. I've admitted it.”

“After I heard it from Dad, of all people.” She let her arm drop off the door, and sat back much like Bea had. “Let me guess, you're going to say something like – that stuff doesn't matter though, because she's a good person, and I should trust you when you tell me that.”

“It's true. Allie has been nothing but good to me, from the night we met.” Bea had kicked Allie in the back and knocked all of her food to the ground, and still Allie had helped her pick up all of her work supplies. She tried not to take the money, and then tried to give it back to her via dinner the next night. From the very beginning Allie was so genuine and kind, and honest. Adding to her life in every way. 

“Then where'd you get the black eye, hmm?” Debbie asked, looking over at her. “You never told me, and I know you were with her that night. The only other thing I could think was that maybe you got into a bar fight, since you've been going out drinking. With an addict.”

Bea had thought about that way back when. She'd seen that Allie was at least a drug user, by the way the younger woman looked sometimes if nothing else, but she hadn't said anything. For her it hadn't been worth it to say anything. She needed somewhere to be, Allie had offered and her curiosity was only beginning to peak then. If she had felt as strongly as she had grown to for Allie back then, she wouldn't have allowed that though. The truth of that weighed heavy upon her. How could she know that she hadn't been adding to that struggle for the blonde? Bringing all of her drama and needs to the table, accepting that false bravado as Allie told her of her rough life. 

“You're right. Not about the bar fight thing, that didn't happen,” Bea said. She stared out at a few tools on the garage wall, screw drivers and saws hanging from small nails and screws. “Back then I didn't know she was, so--”

“And the black eye?” Debbie pressed. “Where did it come from? You know what, no. You don't even have to tell me. It was bad whatever it was, and it's part of her life, her world and now you're making it part of yours.”

She thought of Allie admitting that she wished Bea were always with her, just as Bea was imaging the blonde there beside her outside. She thought about the pleasant parts of the dreams she'd had on the couch; waking up in Allie's arms, eating ice-cream out of the carton late at night in the kitchen. Always before Harry showed up, but what about Allie's life, what about Derek? She still didn't know much about that situation, hadn't asked. 

“Whatever happened before, Allie is trying to get better. She really is, and I know it won't be easy for her.”

“You have no clue what it's like, or what it's going to be like for her as an addict. Have asked her how many times she's tried to get clean? How many clients she sees a week? If she uses protection?”

That last one she had, but not out of concern for herself really. Again, that was way before she understood her draw to the blonde, or accepted it as what it was. She still wasn't sure when that happened exactly. When they'd kissed? When Allie had touched her wrist and told her that she knew about her being abused? The ice-cream lunch?

“How can you know she's even telling you the truth? You don't know her.”

Bea's head snapped in her daughter's direction. “I do know her. You, your father, and whoever else that's judged her without getting to know her, you're all just going by what? Experience.”

Debbie looked down into her lap. 

“I mean, what is it? 'Cause I never really thought I'd raised someone not to think that there could be goodness in someone, even if you can't see it on the surface. That's how you feel about your father isn't it?” Bea had years of experience to know that if that bit of Harry existed it mind as well of been nonexistent. “Allie has helped me see that life can be something good again. She's been there for me when I've needed to get away from your father, helped me feel comfortable being myself, and she's made me feel like I'm actually worth something.”

Debbie shook her head. “You shouldn't need another person to feel that way, Mum.” She sighed, and sat up straighter. “I talked to Ms. Mitchell about Dad abusing you.”

“You did what?” The woman had known not to call Harry, which Bea had thought about but chosen not to question. 

“She knew that something was wrong, alright. She just knew. It wasn't my fault,” the teen said, angrily. “I made sure that she knew that it wasn't me that he was hurting, and that you were taking steps to leave him, and not to say anything because he would just take it out on you.”

Bea placed a hand on one of her daughter's. “It's okay.” Debbie's teacher wasn't the first or the last person to figure out something was wrong in the girl's life. It was just rare for them to care enough to talk to her about it, which Bea knew all about. 

“Ms. Mitchell gets it, Mum. She's been through it before too, and she told me that sometimes it takes a long time for someone to realize that they truly deserve better after years of emotional and physical abuse. For them to be able to stand on your own, and have a life free of that kind of violence and unpredictability.”

She'd asked herself what it would be like to be without Harry? Before meeting Allie, and her world shifted. Nights of being alone, eventually without Debbie being there. No one depending on her, or demanding anything of her. There would just be silence, instead of fighting. Maybe a bit of television, some lounging around after work. It had seemed scary, and yet a lot like paradise back then. Being alone was not something she was used to at all, and for years the prospect of being alone had led to her think it was best to take the abuse. To wait for lulls, and hope that maybe he'd finally change then. But she'd finally grown so tired of it all that it wasn't as scary, and she knew that she needed to find herself, be strong on her own two feet. She had done that though, with Allie. Hadn't she?

“I just don't want you to get into anything that'll take away from that life you could have without Dad,” Debbie whispered. 

Bea could only nod, her mind jumbled with thoughts. She squeezed Debbie's hand and started the car, both of them remaining silent until they reached the school. Bea because she was a bit shocked by the whole conversation, and Debbie because of the thoughts that Bea now knew were running through her head. More worrying about her mother's safety and well-being. Harry knowing had to have made it all that much more stressful. It had for Bea. They were probably both just waiting for him to explode, and what that would mean for the both of them. 

Once they got to the front of the turn around, she looked to her daughter. “You don't have to worry about me,” Bea said, just as Debbie went to get out of the car. “I appreciate your teacher trying to help, I do. But it's not what you think, okay?” That's all she could think to say. Everything else would just be repeating herself, pleading Allie's case. She could see there was no point in doing that then.

Debbie gave her a sympathetic look. “Okay, mum.”

“I love you. Always,” Bea said, and it felt like it had been entirely too long. The teen had barely been talking to her at all, even if they were in the same room. Just when she thought things were going to get back on track, Harry mentioned Allie's job and and addiction right in front of the teen. To make her look like even worse of a parent, she was sure. 

'Your own daughter is ashamed of you.'

“I love you too, Mum,” Debbie said, turning to give her mother a tight hug. Then she got out of the car and headed inside, not looking back to see her mother watching her go.

Bea pulled out of the turn around, thinking about all that Debbie had said. The fact that Ms. Mitchell had gone through similar problems and beaten them only brought her a little comfort when thinking about what else the woman had said. What Debbie was accusing her off, thanks to that damn black eye, which hadn't even been Allie's fault. How then was it anything similar? She wasn't replacing her bad marriage with an equally bad relationship. Allie was nothing like Harry. Being around her was nothing like being around Harry. Debbie just didn't know her. It was easy to judge someone without really knowing them, but if she knew what Allie had gone through and how good she was, she'd see it too. With everything going on with her marriage, and Allie being uncomfortable with the mere idea of Debbie knowing who she was, Bea wasn't sure how that would ever be possible. 

When she got to work, the ding of the door sounding above her loudly, Bea's eyes immediately landed on Jo. The woman was flipping through the schedule, working out the flow for the week. She looked up as Bea walked past, the fake smile she was going to plaster on for a customer dropping instantly, being replaced by a smug disgust. 

“Bea,” Michelle said, walking up with a smile on her face. “Why didn't you tell me how darling Charlotte is? Have you seen her beautiful grandchildren?” she asked, instantly going into a few of the details of what Charlotte had said was going on with her family at the moment. “And the way she fauns over her sweet looking daughter...”

Bea barely listened as Michelle went on about Charlotte's cute photos of her grandchildren, and how the older woman had so lovingly talked about how wonderful a mother her daughter was. She'd heard it herself from the older woman many times. Jo was still glancing in her direction, that disapproving sneer on her face each time. Bea thought about Debbie and Harry both coming to her with such negative ideas of who Allie was, all because of that gossiping piece of crap. 

“One moment,” she said, cutting Michelle off without bothering to even look her in the face again before walking away. There was no one in the waiting area, and from what Bea saw no one was scheduled to come in for a moment. “Can we have a chat out back?” she asked. Jo's brows rose, and her eyes looked to the other women but Bea wasn't going to give them a chance to come to her rescue. “The women can watch the door for a moment, I'm sure. It'll only take a moment.” She walked off, not waiting for the woman to respond but she could see that the woman was following her in the mirrors, and she could see her mumbling under her breath as well. The moment the back door closed behind them, Bea turned angrily. “Alright, what the hell is your problem?” she asked, knowing full well that some of her anger was slightly misguided, but had Jo not opened her mouth than maybe she would have had more time to sort everything out. 

Jo crossed her arms, her expression screaming that she wasn't phased by the whole ordeal. “I don't have a problem with you, Bea.” The woman said, crossing her arms. 

“No? Because it seems like you do,” Bea said, matching the woman's posture of nonchalance. Mocking it really. “First you talk to my daughter, then my husband. You run your mouth to everyone who walks in that door, or what? And what the hell is your problem with Allie anyway?” Everyone seemed to have some sort of problem with her, other than Bea. She couldn't wait to hear whatever Jo had to say about why she had a baseless disliking for the blonde. Maybe Allie said something snarky when she'd come in, or ask the clerk why she pretended her job made her head bitch of the shop. It didn't warrant going around blabbering about Allie. Her thoughts stopped. “How do you even know anything about her?” Bea asked, half wondering aloud. 

Jo clicked her tongue, eyes hard on the ground. 

“Answer me,” Bea demanded. None of it was making sense. There was something she obviously didn't know. The only way Jo could know who Allie was, what she did, and that she was an addict is if she knew her.

“My brother,” Jo said, arms swinging from around herself in frustration. “I wasn't sure at first, but I know for sure now.”

Bea frowned. “Your brother?”

“A couple of years ago my brother got into some rehab program. It was the first one he'd tried out in months and actually stuck to. We all thought he'd do so well.” Jo shrugged. “Then he saw her there. They'd gone to school together years before, a few classes beneath mine so I didn't really remember her, but he did. And she knew it. Derek is so easy to manipulate.”

Derek. She remembered Allie calling his name that night outside the theater, her saying that whatever was going on, it was between the two of them. Allie had held a knife to his throat and he may have walked away, but he hadn't looked all to phased by the whole thing. Their saying it was between the two of them had spoken of an agreement. Bea had pushed it aside because she'd been there with someone who was abusive before, many times. If you had a bit of 'luck' on your side, you could stand strong and say later, and it be handled at a more private time. Where your anguish couldn't be heard. Had Derek collected?

“She uses the fact that he care for her to get him to buy her drugs, and fix her up with enough money to crawl out of whatever hole she lives in. You have a daughter to think about,” the woman sneered. “Allie is bad news.”

Bea took a step forward. “And what, you're better?” she asked. “Do yo have a kid? So, you think it's better to tell an abusive, alcoholic man that his wife is – hell, I don't even know what you told him. That I'm hanging out with a street whore junkie?” Harry had been the one to say it, but Bea imagined that even if Jo hadn't used those exact words she had meant them that way.

“That's exactly what she is,” Jo argued, posture strong. “She didn't even tell you about Derek, eh? The fact that they've been doing this little dance for years now, and she's been sucking him dry. Even gotten into fist fights with him, landed him in jail, made him lose jobs. Always pretending like she cares about him, but it's really just his cash that she wants. We all knew it after just meeting her once, and yet he could never see it. All she does is use him and then disappear, over and over. He's finally starting to see who she really is now.”

That didn't sound good to Bea. Allie was a prostitute and from what she understood, Derek was a client. To her that meant that he knew that they hand an exchange between the two of them, one of which Bea wasn't surprised had to do with drugs. Allie had hinted at doing things for drugs before, instead of cash. She hadn't mentioned anything having gone on for years though. Bea wasn't sure it was her business, but she did know that her daughter, her husband, that was her business. Whether she liked it or not in his case. 

“No matter what happened between the two of them,” she said, ignoring the slight dizziness she felt knowing all that she knew. “We're only going to have this talk right here and right now. After this, my name better not ever come out of your mouth again, and Allie's either. Not while you're at the shop anyways, unless it's to welcome her in.” She waved her hand to silence the woman. “You told my psychotic husband that I was friends with a prostitute. You are the one that put me and my daughter at further risk by running your mouth. And you're the better person, the better mum?” Bea got into the woman's face. “Never again. Do you hear me? Not to my daughter, and definitely not to Harry. They come here, you call me or have them call me. Keep your personal shit at home.”

Bea walked back inside, looking to Michelle first knowing she'd probably been watching the front door the whole time. “All good,” she said, not bothering to wait for any questions. 

Debbie and Allie were both keeping things from her. Vital things. Sure, she could have asked questions herself, but she hadn't. For some reason she'd expected to them to tell her about the things that were going on in their life that made them feel vulnerable. A teacher knowing about their home life, a coworker of Bea's knowing more about Allie's past. She'd revealed so much of herself. At least, it felt like she had. It wasn't like she often kept secrets from Debbie. Allie knew more about her than she knew about herself at times. Yet she'd known nothing about her teenage daughter slipping up in class, or the fact that one of teachers knew about her home life, and she hadn't known that Allie's apparently long-time client was related to one of her coworkers. 

////////////////////////

By the time her lunch rolled around Bea was needing a bit of solitude, so she decided to eat in her car. A few of the women were gossiping about her going out back to talk with Jo, who was apparently ashamed enough of her own situation that she hadn't told the whole staff her family issues, and she wanted to stay close to the shop in case Harry or Debbie popped up again. Her conversation with Jo had not helped her think any more clearly about the situation than her conversation with Debbie had. Allie had mentioned not being able to be sober, a client wanting her to screw for free, and Derek had shown up that night and was with her when Bea found out that Allie was a prostitute. She had seen him give the blonde money. Did Jo not realize when what the word prostitute meant? She kept picturing him grabbing Allie, that elbow hitting her in the eye. Debbie asking who did it. Years. A dance they'd been doing for years. 

She opened the lid of her container and stabbed her fork into the cold food. Leftovers, again. Continuing to go off with Allie during her lunch hour would be difficult with Harry knowing, and showing up at any moment. Him causing a scene could cause her to lose her job, and then she'd really be screwed. This was how he won. His simple dominating presence, or the threat of it kept her and Debbie in line. At least it had. Neither one of them were as intimidated those days as it seemed, but she was still concerned. She couldn't afford to lose her job, and her mind struggled not to think in line with all those years of abuse. That it wasn't worth the effort, or consequence to step out of line. 

A tap on her window made her drop her fork into her lap. The image of Harry's face from that morning in the garage popped into her head, but it wasn't his dead stare at her window. It was Allie's blonde hair and smiling lips. 

“Open up,” she said, pointing towards the lock on the door. 

Bea released the breath that had caught in her chest and pressed the button beside her. She watched the blonde get in and settle in the passenger seat. “What are you doing here?” she asked. The question was mostly out of concern for the situation. Drama and all she felt relief in seeing the blonde, and that she was looking even better than the last time they saw one another. The withdrawals appeared to be going well. 

“Our phone call last night didn't exactly leave me feeling all bubbly,” she said, looking Bea over. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

That Harry hadn't hurt her is what the blonde actually meant, Bea could tell by the way those blue eyes trailed over the bits of exposed skin they could find. “Nothing happened,” Bea said, with a shrug. She looked down at her food. A lot had happened, just not with Harry. 

Allie placed a hand on Bea's cheek, gently lifting her head. “You sure?”

Bea struggled to say something. She wanted to bring up what Jo had said, what Debbie said. To confide in her like she had many times about her life, but this time it was about her and their relationship. That made it harder. “I'm sure,” Bea answered. 

From what she could tell Allie wasn't completely convinced, but the blonde didn't pry. Something Bea always appreciated before. Allie's hand remained on her cheek, thumb sweeping across her skin. Her eyes fell to Bea's lips and the feeling she felt in her chest and stomach reaffirmed how far she'd come with this person in such a short amount of time. 

“Can I kiss you, or should I worry about one of your nosey coworkers coming out and catching us?” Allie asked. 

And there it was. Bea removed the hand from her cheek, settling their hands middle console between them. “Something did happen,” she said, looking away. “Jo told me about you and Derek.” Out of the corner of her eye she could see Allie's posture shift, her eyes no longer focused towards Bea's face. The hand in Bea's went practically limp. 

“I swear I didn't know she worked at your shop, I'd only met her the one time. Derek had just told me to meet him in the area that night, and he didn't show so I got some food and sat on the steps of some random shop. I wasn't trying to get to him through his bitch of a sister.”

Bea frowned. “I wasn't thinking anything like that,” she said, and she truly hadn't. There was no point she could see in bugging the woman by getting involved with one of her coworkers. “She said that the two of you went to school together and that you use his feelings for you to get what you want from him and then disappear.”

“What do you think?” Allie asked. She looked over at Bea, eyes searching. 

“I'm not sure, honestly,” Bea said. “You wouldn't just use someone, I know that.”

“That's not always true. Not when I'm messed up,” Allie admitted. “But you've seen Derek. He's not a nice guy, and he sure as hell isn't innocent in all this like she's probably making him out to be. He likes to pretend he's a good guy, but he's not.” That distant look rose to the surface. “Derek and I have an arrangement. Or, we used to,” she corrected. “I'd do a few favors for him, and he'd pay me enough money to get by for a while.”

To crawl out of whatever hole she'd fallen into is what Jo had said. Those words had left Bea wondering. “And the fighting? Reconnecting at rehab?” All of it really. Had Allie truly known that Derek cared about her, did he even care enough to really be used. 

“Not one of my proudest moments, but yeah. We met at a meeting and decided we'd rather go get fucked and fuck each other, and that's how it started,” she said, bluntly. “Every once in a while we'd fight because of us smoked the others gear, other times the bruises came from what some would call play. Made it pretty hard to convince the cops when I wasn't playing back, the one time I did call them, but it didn't matter. I started to handle my own shit, and when I want him to back off he does. The problem is, I'm a fucking addict and he's a sure way to get the drugs.”

Years though. Years of that. Bea herself knew about staying with someone way past the time you should have, but Allie wasn't even with this man. It was about drugs, and money where Bea's staying with Harry was first about love, then both love and fear, until it was just the fear. “What if something happens?” Bea asked. “If you suddenly want the drugs again, and you don't have the money. Would you keep going back to him?”

Allie grabbed both of her hands. “I don't want it anymore though. For the first time I really, really don't. You gave me that. Something that means more to me than getting high?” she scoffed. “It'd been so long since I'd cared about anything, or anyone. Including myself.”

Bea could believe that. When you felt like you were worthless it was easy not to give a damn about what happened to you, even with Debbie there at times it was hard. If she hadn't had Debbie she wasn't sure what she'd have turned out like. Whether she'd ever felt anything good ever again after Harry, or whether she'd even be alive. That was how she'd felt about herself and it had been hard to rise above it because of the psychological aspects alone, she couldn't imagine having a chemical dependency on top of that. She'd heard via television shows, and stories at the shop that an addict needed to get clean for themselves and no one else. That they had to value themselves, and Bea had thought then how similar it was. She'd though maybe she was addicted to the pain, and the horrible situation she was in, but that element of fear was what really had won out for her. Not one part of her body had yearned for the next beating, it feared it so much that it would crumble, leaving her a shaking mess as she anticipated the blow. 

“You look so much better today,” Bea said, sadly. Her mind wondered for how long though. Was she, Bea Smith who barely had any self value herself, enough for someone like Allie? She'd never stopped and thought about what the blonde needed before that night at the hotel, and even then she had only known to provide her presence. What if something happened though, between the two of them, to Bea? With Harry, Derek, and Debbie, all the complications....

“I am better,” Allie said, bringing their faces closer together. “And I'll keep getting better,” Allie swore. “You've given me a reason to.”

Tears started to form and Bea tried to blink them away. Screw her coworkers or Harry, in that moment she couldn't help but lean over and kiss the blonde, wallowing in the softness of her lips. Allie let out a small sound of surprise and then firmly kissed back. She placed a hand at the back of Bea's neck and opened her mouth, inviting Bea in and moaning the instant she felt Bea's tongue touch her own. The sound vibrated through the older woman, and her heart began to pound in her chest as she felt Allie circle and suck on her tongue. Bea grabbed onto the arm of the hand behind her neck., needing something to hold onto. Allie kissed her deeper then. Bea's hand fell to the blonde's side and it took her a moment to realize it was because the arm she had been holding onto had also moved. When she felt the tips of Allie's fingers gliding along her collarbone, what little breath Bea had left escaped in shuddering breaths. She wanted to know what it would be like to feel Allie's hands pressing against her flesh, fingers on her actual skin, but she still pulled back. 

“Wait,” she said, before leaning back in for another kiss. “We're in the parking lot by and for the shop that I work at,” Bea said, mostly to remind herself. “What you said, it means so much to me,” she said, staring into the other woman's eyes. “You mean so much to me.” A truth that scared Bea, and made her scared for Allie as well. 

They spent the rest of her lunch sharing the little bit of food Bea brought for herself. Allie made jokes about eating a lot more if Bea cooked all of her meals, and while she laughed, Bea's heart sunk at the thought of that not coming to fruition. Each time she saw or talked to Allie, like the blonde, she wished for their time together to be longer. Because as stress filled as both of their lives were, when they were together it didn't feel so dire and horrible. It still was, for sure, she couldn't ignore that fact at all with the problems that they were facing. Yet for a minutes as they could feel something more than the turmoil. The problem that Bea was facing as she sat in the car with Allie as they finished eating was that while she did feel that joy and desire being around the blonde, the turmoil hadn't lessened as much as it usually did. 

With Allie's years of attempting to get sober on her brain, Bea worried about the other woman putting so much stock into her, and it wasn't just her insecurities playing with her. No, she still didn't completely see how someone like Allie wanted to be with her in any way, but it was the fact that she was married to an abusive, crazed man that once again began to dominate her life. Allie had come to check on her because she'd been worried about what Harry was going to do. One day he might actually do something to Bea, or even to her. Bea didn't know how an addict would react to such situations, but she imagined it wouldn't be good. She imagined that Allie had really been seriously worried, and didn't want to hear Bea say not to come in case she was covering it up. That's what would happen eventually, wasn't it? She would find herself not wanting to worry the blonde even more than she tried not to make her worry already once things started to fall apart. 

“You sure you're okay?” Allie asked before they got out of the car and said goodbye, with a just a tight hug. 

The question haunted her for the rest of her shift, and Jo kept looking at her which didn't help anything. Her remaining hours seemed to inch by, and to make it worse Harry messaged her about coming home instead of closing up. She wasn't going to close up but she wasn't going home either. If she did she'd have to remind him that she was wanting to move on and that would unleash a hell that no one needed at the moment. At least if she waited he'd probably be drunk and passed out when she got home. She'd thought that before though and he'd been more sober than she'd seen in a while. Parking at the park near Debbie's partner's house was the only solution she came up with. 

Bea sat there repeatedly asking herself what it is she could do. The whole day had been filled with rising obstacles. Harry knew about Allie but was in denial, Debbie thought she was getting into another bad relationship while struggling to deal with the emotional weight of living with an abusive father, and Allie was an addict with an always willing supplier of cash. This supplier of cash was the sister of her coworker, who was responsible for Harry and Debbie knowing about her spending time with Allie, and despite her telling Harry about her friendship with Allie not actually being just a friend she didn't see an end to her marriage in sight. Everything was horrible weaved mess. 

She wanted Harry out of her life. For both her and her daughter to be free of his violent and controlling nature. With him knowing she just knew anything she had with Allie was a huge risk, not just for her but for Allie, maybe even Debbie. She could go to the cops, finally, and hope that they'd detain him but for how long? She thought of her dreams on the couch again, him popping up just when she'd settled into the beautiful scene unfolding before her. That would be her life if Harry was free, especially if they were married. And she knew that her life with Harry, that constant threat wouldn't be good for Allie either. When they'd first met the blonde had looked a bit homeless and battered, and by the second time they saw each other the blonde looked like she lived well, and over tipped her for that cut and color. Bea was almost positive she knew where that money came from now. She'd thought about the money being from one of Allie's clients before, when she'd first found out Allie was a prostitute, but knowing there was a history there made things different. She couldn't bring an addict into her chaotic life, or be the reason they wanted to stay sober when her own life was in shambles. Even if it weren't, the idea was terrifying. She'd never thought of herself being enough for anyone in any capacity. 

Her hand slammed against the staring wheel. Then, what if Derek showed back up? With Jo knowing about her spending time with Allie, speculating whatever was going on, she couldn't know that the woman wouldn't say the wrong thing to her brother one day. Just one visit to the shop by Allie being a little too friendly and thinking finally she'd have proof of the blonde moving on, she'd say something to him, and there he'd be. At the shop, maybe at her house eventually. Then he'd be a threat to Debbie as well. 

Bea shook her head. 

Both of the men needed to be out of the way. Out of their lives. Harry's only weakness was his ego and temper, and his alcoholism she guessed. She assumed Derek's weaknesses were heroin and Allie from what Jo said. Like Harry, the man seemed obsessed and possessive. Nothing good could come from having any ties to them. Debbie was enough of a tie to Harry as it was. But she just couldn't figure out what it was she could do to fix the situation at all. 

Her mind went over all of the problems and obstacles again and again, tormenting her with dead ends. Then those problems began to morph into something darker. She sat up, looking in her rear view mirror and thinking about Jo sitting at the desk inside. Her anger filled gossiping, and misdirected ideas. Bea thought maybe she could use that. The results would vary, but she saw that maybe if she maneuvered the pieces of the chess board of her life, maybe she could make it so either way the enemy pieces were taken out. The issue was, how messy it could get and whether she should feel guilty if it were to work. If it meant Allie was free of the man, she couldn't imagine feeling guilty though. Just like she couldn't imagine herself feeling guilty if Harry were to find himself in jail, absolute proof of his nature keeping him there years. That's what it would take, not the divorce she was trying to get to appease her daughter's fragile, naive mind. 

Yes. Things were starting to line up in her head. She was reminded of those times she'd hoped Harry would lose it so she'd have proof to present to the cops, except she wouldn't be putting herself on the chopping block again. Ever. 

Bea started the car back up and drove to pick up Debbie from her partner's home, relieved to see the teen back in that familiar routine as she ran out to the car and hopped in. She'd need to be there tomorrow evening too, perfect for Bea's plans. 

“You ready?” Bea asked, putting the car into gear. 

 

The next day when the sun rose Bea was still awake on the couch, arm under head head as she stared up at the ceiling deep in thought. Her plan had become more detailed as the hours ticked by, though admittedly more risky. She thought for hours about how much could go wrong, how much those involved would be affected, and still couldn't come up with any other solutions. People were predictable though, at least Harry was, and many others and she could take comfort in that. It made her plan seem all the more likely to succeed because of it. 

She got up and didn't make breakfast, setting out bowls and cereal instead. Debbie walked out and looked over at her with a confused look, and Harry just looked mad. He noisily made himself a bowl anyways, slamming the bowl down on the table hard enough for some of the milk to splash out. Typically Bea would grab a towel and wipe it up, but she didn't then and she shook her head when Debbie moved to do it. The teen abruptly settled back into her chair, eating her cereal as fast as possible before heading to her room to continue getting ready for school. 

“I'm closing up the shop again tonight,” Bea said, taking a large bite. 

Harry's spoon clanked against his bowl. “No you're not. Unless they start paying you more for that, you're coming home. And you're not sleeping on the couch again, either.”

“You do it all the time when you're drunk,” she said evenly, dipping her spoon back into her bowl. Harry smacked her bowl off the table and it's contents flew everywhere, milk splashing only her clothes from the day before, which she opted to keep on when Harry had passed out in their bedroom. She looked up at him. He had stood up to hit the bowl and was still standing, breathing hard. “I want a divorce, Harry.”

“Like hell you do,” he yelled. “I don't know what the hell has gotten into you--”

“Yes you do,” she said, simply. Her eyes dared him to deny it, or maybe even acknowledge it. A strange emotion flashed across his face. What was it? Jealousy, fear, disgust. She didn't know exactly, but that was okay. It still went along with everything. “I'm not coming home until Debbie's done working on her project, and tomorrow I'm going to go see a lawyer about--”

He cut her off, yelling all sorts of threats. She didn't dare mention the fact that she'd already seen a lawyer, that would push him too far. Bea just watched as he began to get louder, taking steps towards her, jamming his finger against the table top with each of his points. When he was about to get close enough to really strike her, Debbie walked out of her room with wide eyes. 

“I'm ready,” the teen said.

Bea stared at her for a moment. Harry was probably looking too, but he wasn't seeing what she saw. She nodded at her daughter. “Good. Give me a moment to get dressed.”

Harry growled, shoving the table before storming out of the house. Bea watched him go and ignored Debbie's questioning gaze when she finally did get out of her seat and get dressed, and looks the teen sent her way when they were on the way to her school. It wasn't until they were parked in front of the school that Bea turned to her daughter. 

“All of this will be over soon,” she said. “You just focus on finishing up your education, alright?”

Debbie stared at her for a moment before mumbling sure and getting out of the car, looking back at her mum a couple of times before disappearing into swarm of teenagers. Bea left then, heading into work with a confident stride. Jo was already giving her looks, as predicted. Perfect. Michelle tried to talk to her again about Charlotte and Bea pretended to be deeply interested, taking advantage of the blonde's sudden niceness. Eventually the younger hairdresser did actually say something useful though. 

It turned out Michelle was pregnant, and had just found out. Her mother wasn't around to act like Charlotte did towards her daughter and grandchildren. Bea couldn't believe that such a gem was dropped into her lap. She congratulated the woman, and they began their work day. A light one, again in her favor. During her lunch break Bea sat down in the chair in her area, and decided to make a personal phone call loud enough for Jo to hear. 

“Hey, Allie,” she said, knowing it would catch the clerk's attention. No one else would really cared about what she was saying, it sounded innocent enough. Just one friend asking another friend if they wanted to go out later. Walk around the city, eat some food. The blonde happily agreed, of course, and Bea's mind faltered for a second. Allie would be directly affected by she was doing, and one of the possible outcomes of things going wrong made her uneasy, but again she reminded herself that it was the only way. 

When she hung up she looked to Jo, catching the woman just as she turned away. Bea looked over to Michelle to see that she was wrapping it up with one of her clients, and two of their other coworkers would soon be doing the same. The moment she saw Michelle's client get up and walk away from the station, Bea headed over . 

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” she said, quietly. 

They began to talk about the fact that she was finally getting a divorce, which drew the attention of the other two hairdressers that were on the verge of finishing up. Soon they were all huddled together, each of them saying bullshit things like they knew she'd be able to do it, and that they'd worried about her well-being and Debbie's. Those words meant very little in that instant. It was what they said after she told them about Jo talking to Harry that mattered. Each one of them had been horrified by the very idea of talking to Harry, and said that they'd thought Jo had brushed him off. That that's what the clerk claimed to have done. By the end of their conversation and break, the women had decided they'd be letting Jo go at the end of the shift. 

Another piece falling into place. 

Nervous as she was about how everything would work out, Bea had a smile on her face when she walked out of the shop, leaving the women to talk to Jo. They all agreed it would be less awkward if she wasn't there anyways. Allie was standing with her leg propped on the wall of the building closest to the parking lot. 

“Fate is on our side, after all,” Allie said, as Bea walked up to her. 

Bea hoped so. She looked up at Allie's smiling face, and reached a hand out for the other woman to take. Allie looked down at Bea's hand, eye brow rising. 

“Alright,” the blonde said, taking Bea's hand. “I'll play.”

Bea's smile grew, she intertwined their fingers. “I thought we could walk,” she said, surprising the blonde even further. They walked out of the parking lot hand in hand. Bea walked them down to a crosswalk, and looked back over her shoulder in time to see Jo angrily storm out of the shop. The woman looked over at her, and they held each others' gaze as Allie led them across the street when it cleared, until they reached the other side. 

“Let's get ice-cream first,” Allie said, getting Bea's attention. 

She couldn't say no to that. The last time they'd gotten ice-cream she'd found herself flirting with the blonde without intending to, eyes transfixed when Allie grabbed her ice-cream and tasted it. This time she did taste Allie's when the blonde offered, and all of her flirting was intentional. Bea had never been so affectionate with anyone so openly, allowing Allie to kiss her on the cheek to make up for making fun of her flavor choice again. It wasn't even mint. 

“Next time I'm picking for you,” the blonde said. “Yep, and don't argue.”

Next they walked around the area a little, Allie's arm finding its way around her neck, resting on top of her shoulders. She hadn't been kidding when she agreed to go along with their affection filled evening. Bea did notice a few heads turning as they walked by, a few disapproving stares, a bit of leering from a group of younger men. The looks of disapproval she shouldn't have been surprised about, but she was. She didn't let it get to her, or distract her. When they'd gone out as friends people hadn't given them a second thought, not that she would have noticed anyone looking at them during the moments like the one where Allie touched the bruise on her wrist. 

That night she needed to notice staring eyes. One pair of eyes in particular. But she never saw them. Not even during their dinner at the restaurant of Allie's choosing, a burger joint with bad music, and delicious chips. A few of which they tossed each other. Bea later apologized when she saw their server walking up with a broom, and left a big tip. By the time they were walking down the sidewalk again, the sun was beginning to go down, and Bea would have to head to get Debbie at some point so they headed back towards the shop. As disappointed as she wanted to be, Bea had such a good time with Allie that she couldn't help but decide to enjoy the rest of her night, and regroup later. Just because it hadn't worked out that day, it didn't mean it wouldn't if the two of them were to go out publicly again. There was no way she was going to let it go entirely.

As soon as they rounded the corner into the parking lot, Allie pulled Bea close to her, backing up until her back was against the wall. Bea's hands hung in the air and then settled on Allie's neck, pulling her down into a kiss. She tried to make it light and quick, because being alone hadn't been part of the plan. Having eyes, witnesses around was the plan if they were going to be out and about as an item, but Bea couldn't pull away when Allie's tongue pushed past her lips. The blonde's hands pressed into her back making her shiver as they ran up her spine and then back down, stopping before they reached Bea's butt. The first time. Feeling one of Allie's hand dip lower, Bea whined into the younger woman's mouth. 

Allie's lips left Bea's, her fingers unashamedly squeezing through the older woman's jeans. “God, I want you,” she whispered, before kissing Bea again. Faster and more aggressively. 

Bea struggled to keep up at first, but was eventually able to catch the rhythm of things. Her hands left Allie's neck, itching to be somewhere more intimate too. Allie's hand that wasn't groping her took hold of one of her's, and Bea suddenly felt the roundness of the blonde's breast pushing against her palm. They both gasped. It took her a second to get over the fact that she was actually touching Allie's chest, but once she did it she couldn't keep her hand or fingers still. 

“I knew those hands were magical,” Allie said, breathing harshly against her lips. She removed her hand from Bea's butt, resting them both on her back as she pressed their foreheads together. Bea's hand stilled, and moved to the center of Allie's chest. The blonde's heart was pounding. “What was all this about tonight, Bea?” the blonde asked. 

Bea's eyes snapped open. She looked up at Allie and froze when she saw someone approaching them. Not who Bea had hoped to see them in the crowded area of the city. 

“Yeah, Bea. What is this all about?” Harry asked.

She stepped back, out of Allie's arms. The blonde caught her hand though, and held it tightly. Harry's eyes were immediately drawn to them, his nostrils flaring. He stopped a few feet away from them, way further than Bea thought he would have seeing the two of them the way they were. 

“What did it look like?” Allie asked.

Bea flinched at Allie's words. This was one of the ways in which things could have gone wrong, she knew it. Her and Allie seeing each other with Harry in the picture always meant they'd be at risk, but it was Derek that she'd hoped would find them in the crows of the city that night. He'd backed away at just the threat of a small blade. She couldn't imagine Harry doing the same, which was why she shook her head at Allie when she saw the blonde reaching into her back pocket. 

“Get out of here, Harry,” Bea said, voice slightly shaking. Her adrenaline from making out with Allie had suddenly morphed into a fear filled adrenaline. A jarring contrast. “Don't do anything stupid.”

“Like fucking a junkie street whore?” he yelled. 

Allie laughed. “Nothing I haven't heard before. You're just mad that I'm bagging your wife.”

“Allie,” Bea said, but it was already too late. 

Harry took the last few steps to them, and grabbed Bea by the arm. “You're coming home with me,” he said, angrily. 

Bea started to struggle, both she and Allie yelling for the man to get his hands off her. Allie went so far to grab Harry's arm to try to pull it off of Bea, but he shoved her back hard enough to push her to the ground. When Bea started to fight against his grip harder he punched her in the stomach, knocking the breath out of her. Then he smacked her across the face. His grip on her arm loosened just so she could stumble to the ground, gripping her stomach. Her face stung and throbbed. 

“This is pathetic,” he spat, staring down at her. Then suddenly he was falling, Allie having kicked him in the back of the knee. He hit his head on the ground and rolled over onto his back, holding it as it began to bleed. “You bitch. I'm going to--” Allie kicked him in the side, and he hissed in pain. 

On the ground still, Bea called out for Allie to stop when the blonde kneeled down and punched the man hard in the face, telling him he was a fucking coward. When she lifted her fist to hit him again Harry caught her arm and pushed her back onto her butt, but Allie instantly got up just as he did. The man lunged at her just as she reached into her back pocket, and the next thing Bea knew Harry was screaming. 

Bea pushed herself up as Harry fell to his knees, then she could see it. The knife in Allie's right hand and its bloodied tip. 

“What did you do?” Bea asked, approaching slowly. Allie was panting as she looked down at Harry, body looking taught and ready to strike again. “Allie, put down the knife,” Bea said, lifting a shaky hand towards the blonde. 

Allie shook her head. “He fucking deserves it,” she said, through grit teeth. 

Harry chuckled, head turning so he was looking up at Allie. “What? You're going to kill me?”

“Don't,” Bea shouted. “Put it down.” Everything was going horribly wrong, and Bea knew if the other woman killed Harry things would never go right again. Not for either one of them. “He's not worth it. Allie,” she warned. The blonde sighed, her stance relaxing, but for some reason when she turned towards Bea with a knife and bloody hand Bea found herself stepping back.

Allie noticed and froze. From her expression, Bea could read that it was then that all of it hit the blonde. “Shit,” she said, dropping the knife and holding her hands out. “I'm sorry.”

“You're going to be sorry, you bitch,” Harry said, holding his thigh as he got to he tried to get to his feet, but the younger woman was no longer paying attention to him. “A flesh wound like this won't stop me.”

Bea nodded towards the parking lot exit. “Get out of here,” she said, looking Allie dead in the eyes. “Run.” Allie started to apologize again and Bea repeated herself, voice stronger. “Run, I said. Go.”  
The blonde hesitated and then ran, her eyes panicked as she passed Bea. Once she could no longer hear the patter of Allie's shoes running down the sidewalk, Bea walked over to Harry. He was still struggling to stand, with his wounded leg. She cautiously placed a shoulder under his other arm, and tried to help him up, but when he mumbled something about tracking Allie down and making her pay she let him drop to the ground. He cried out in pain. 

“You're not going to do anything.” Her eyes traveled to the knife beside him, and she was going to pick it up until she saw the inscription on its handle. Derek. Harry let out a bitter laugh and something in the mind just clicked. “You wouldn't want people knowing that you got beat up by a woman, would you?”

His eyes found hers, no hint of amusement in them at all. That ego of his....

Bea pushed the knife towards him with her foot. “That's too humiliating for a tough guy like you, isn't it Harry? Who would respect you then?” He reached for her, but fell over in pain from extending his hurt leg wrong. She laughed at the sight of him. “You're going to go home, and clean yourself up.” He'd said similar words to her after beating her. “And if you happen to need to go to the hospital for your flesh wound, you tell them that Derek beat the crap out of you. He's a man at least, right?” she asked before turning and walked over to her car. 

Her heart was pounding so hard that she could hear it in her ears as she got into her car. She started it and backed up slowly while taking deep breaths. Harry was in view, pushing himself up with the help of the wall of the corner building. Bea made sure not to look him in the eyes as she drove past, being as dismissive as possible while holding a breath she didn't release until he was out of view. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed Allie's number, but the blonde's phone went straight to voicemail. 

“Damnit, Allie,” she said, hanging up. Next she called Debbie who didn't answer though her phone rang many times. “Why is no one picking up their goddamn phones?” She drove a few miles away and pulled over, her heart still pounding.

Harry could very well call the cops on Allie, and the thought terrified her. She'd go to jail, and Harry might go free of consequences. There was an irony in finding herself in the car where she'd made the plans that had disastrously fallen apart by the end, but she couldn't appreciate it. How could she have been so reckless? She tried calling both Allie and Debbie again with no luck, leaving a voicemail on both that time, and about an hour after she left them her phone went off. 

“Debbie,” she said.

“Mum, what's happened?” the teen asked, out of breath. “I was somewhere I shouldn't have been--”

“What? Where are you?” Bea asked, her night growing instantly worse. 

“I'm home now,” the teen said. “With Dad.”

Bea started to panic more. “Are you okay? I'm coming to pick you up.”

“No don't,” Debbie said. “Let me try to calm him down first.”

“Debbie, no. I'm going to come get you. Pack some of your things and--”

“Mum,” Debbie said, loudly. “You need to listen to me. I've been lying to you about who my project partner is. We went somewhere we shouldn't have tonight, and I didn't do anything, I never do except maybe smoke a little pot.”

“Debbie...”

“Allie saw me there. She saw me, and said some stuff...I'm so sorry,” the teen said. “You need to find her. I'll be fine, I swear.”

Bea didn't understand what her daughter was talking about, but she didn't get to ask any questions before the teen hung up. Allie had never told her where she lived, how was she supposed to find her? Then she thought about what Debbie said, and about all that she knew of Allie's drug problem. She started the car, and drove to the hotel that Allie had stayed at for those days, glad to see it was the same desk attendant. It took less convincing than it should have to get him to tell her Allie's room number, but she decided not to worry about it as she made her way to the fifth floor. 

She walked down to the end of the hall to the room number she'd been given and knocked. “Allie, it's me.”

The lock to the door clicked loudly and the door slightly. Bea waited for it to be pulled further open, but saw that it wasn't going to be. She touched the door to see if it opened more or would stop because of someone standing behind it, then slowly walked in. Allie was sitting on the bed, a small baggie next to her on the stand beside her. 

“Don't worry. I haven't touched any of it,” the blonde said, staring at the wall. 

Bea closed the door and walked over to the stand. She picked up the baggie and walked into the restroom, turning on the bathroom sink and pouring the powder into the flowing water. 

“I fucked up, didn't I?” Allie said, when Bea walked back into the room. 

“We both did,” Bea said, sitting down beside her on the bed. She reached over and placed a hand on Allie's leg. 

One of Allie's hand instantly landed on top of hers, holding it tightly. “Debbie told you we bumped into each other,” she said. “What a fucking night, right?”

What a night, indeed. She thought about Debbie saying she hadn't ever done anything, just smoked weed. 

“I scared the shit out of,” Allie continued. “In a good way. Gotta qualify that after the whole stabbing. I'm so sorry, Bea. When I saw him hurting you, I just snapped. Then when I saw the way you looked at me...”

This was exactly what Bea was afraid of. Well, not exactly. She hadn't thought Allie would end up beating Harry up and stabbing him, but she had been worried about him attacking her and it sending Allie over the edge, drug wise. It wasn't just the attack though, it was the Bea reacted to Allie herself when she'd struck back with that same violence. No, it wasn't the same, she reminded herself. 

“I'm going to jail, aren't I?” Allie asked. 

Bea placed her other hand on top of Allie's, sandwiching the blonde's hand between hers. “That's not going to happen,” she said. “I won't let it.”

Allie scoffed. “How?” 

There was no way to guarantee that he wouldn't report Allie, Bea knew that. However, there were ways to lessen his desire to do so. She'd already struck one nerve to help push him away from making that decision. Next she'd have to take a different route, a less aggressive one. She looked over at Allie, eyes saddened by her thoughts, and the blonde understood then. Her shoulders slumped, and began to tremble as she started to cry. Bea wrapped an arm around Allie's shoulder and pulled her close, cradling her head against her. 

“It'll be okay,” Bea said, pressing her nose into Allie's hair. She took a deep breath, letting that familiar sweetness fill her senses. The tears forming in her eyes, she didn't let fall. It was her turn to be strong for Allie. For the both of them really. Allie sat up, and Bea wiped the tears from her check, placing kisses where her thump swiped the the tears away and then kissing her on the lips. 

When Bea pulled back Allie's lips followed hers, and the blonde's fingers found their way into Bea's hair, pressing their lips back together. She kissed Bea again and again, each one more passionate and desperate than the next. There was no fight for dominance when their tongues met, just the languid gliding of the two. Hands began to wander freely, and Bea found that she loved the sound of Allie's moans against her lips as she allowed her hands to travel up her waist, thumbs brushing the underside of the other woman's breasts. Allie tongue dove deeper into her mouth then, and before she knew it they were removing each others' shirts.

As soon as her shirt was over her head, Bea felt Allie's lips on her breasts above her bra, the blonde's hands massaging her through it. She lied back on the bed with her hands in Allie's hair, arching her back for the younger woman to reach beneath her to unclasp her bra and remove it. Allie's eyes were dark and heavy as they stared down at her chest, Bea'd never had anyone look at her in such a way. She reached for Allie to reconnect their lips, and within minutes they were both fully undressed.  
Bea's body shook against her will at the feel of Allie on top of her, their chests pressed together as they kissed passionately, and even more so when those soft lips left hers and began to travel down her body.  
Her body jumped and twitched, and Bea struggled to breath as Allie descended further and further. She blinked rapidly, her bottom lip between her teeth. She was pulsing in places she'd never thought possible, and then she felt Allie's warm tongue there. 

It was another thing no one had ever done for her. 

Bea felt hands move to firmly hold her place as Allie spread around the wetness that Bea was still surprised came from her. The touches were light at first, then they grew more determined until Bea was moaning uncontrollably and her hips were moving against her will. Bursts of pleasure spread through her with growing intensity, in her legs she felt that now recognizable tightness as she pushed her feet into the mattress. She came suddenly, fingers gripping the sheets as her body tried to curl in on itself, head rising off the mattress. It took a while for her to be able to catch her breath and open her eyes, but when she did the intensity of Allie's stare made her lose it again. 

The blonde hovered above her, lips still covered in Bea. “I love you,” she said, kissing Bea before she could respond. Those words made Bea's heart swell, and again she struggled not to cry. Was that what she felt when the blonde looked at her? When she heard her voice? She didn't know, and obviously Allie didn't need to know. Or, she already knew. As their kisses gained momentum again, Bea turned them over. “I don't know what to do,” she said. 

Allie placed her hands on Bea's face and gave her a chaste, but firm kiss. “Yes, you do. I've seen you, remember?” she asked. “Just stay up here with me,” she added, pushing Bea's hair back away from her face. So Bea did. Even when Allie guided Bea's fingers inside of her, and she felt so tempted to look, she held Allie's gaze as the blonde's eyes began to flutter. They both gasped when Allie constricted around Bea's fingers, and though Bea's arm burned she kept pushing into Allie until she couldn't move her fingers because of tightness of Allie's walls clamping around them. The blonde beautiful image of Allie's face as she came would forever be burned into Bea's memory as one of the best moments of her life. She only wished it could last forever.

But it couldn't. They had that night, wrapped up in each others' arms but they both knew things would be different from that point on. The sun rose all too soon, and Bea got out of bed to get dressed. Allie watched her the whole time, not saying a word.

It was after she put her bra and shirt back on, and was zipping up her pants that Bea managed to speak. “This doesn't have to be goodbye,” she said, clasping the button. She then sat on the bed. “Things will calm down eventually.”

Allie picked up one of Bea's hands, and brought it to her lips. “Eventually,” she said., eyes looking down at the hand in hers. 

Bea leaned down and kissed the blonde, the emotion behind it making her chest ache. She was out the door way too soon, and when she was outside of the hotel and in her car she finally allowed herself to beak down. Life had proven to be cruel, as usual. She drove home trying to collect herself the whole way, preparing herself for the harshness of her old life. Who knew how long it would take to get a divorce from Harry, or whether he wouldn't go crazy on her and try to beat some sense into her for all the trouble she'd caused. If that's what it took to make him leave Allie alone, and force him out of her life, then she was back to accepting the pain she'd endure to put him away. 

Pulling up to their home she her heart dropped seeing multiple police cars, and an ambulance. She got out of the car and started to run across the yard, but when the front door open she stopped. Two cops had Harry in cuffs, and were guiding the limping man towards one of the squad cars. She didn't care about what was going on with him then, she just wanted to see her daughter. 

“Where's Debbie?” she asked, voice shrill. 

One of the cops said the kid was inside as he pushed Harry into the car, and Bea wasted no time running into the house, surprised to see it wasn't a mess. Stepping into the kitchen she slowed when she saw Debbie sitting at a table with the cops, the pictures Bea had taken of the bruises Harry had inflicted lining the table. 

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the epilogue. Calm down.


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EPILOGUE!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure you've read the chapter right before this, Final Push.

EPILOGUE...(THIS IS THE EPILOGUE, AS IN, IF YOU HAVEN'T READ CHAPTER SEVEN BACK THE HELL UP) 

Bea sat at the kitchen table with a pencil in hand. It had been four months since that night, and so much had changed. So much had gone as expected, like Harry trying one last time to get control of what he felt he owned, but for the most part her life seemed practically unrecognizable. They'd moved even closer to her job, escaping the memories of the home Harry had tormented them in for so long. After the manager of the shop quit, Bea had become the manager for reasons she still didn't understand considering how the women treated her over the years. Something about her strength being encouraging, and her work ethic somehow correlated. It was true, she did work harder than all of them for the most part, and she needed the money so eh. The position freed up a lot more time for her to spend with her daughter, which was what was most important to her after after unraveled. 

“Another one?” Debbie asked, walking into the kitchen. She stopped at the table for a second, looking over her mother's sketch of the morning. 

It was another one of Allie. One of a very embarrassing amount. Once Harry wasn't around anymore she could get back to some of the things she'd like to do as a girl and teen, without fear of him finding her drawings and making fun of her. Mocking her and telling her how horrible they were, how no one would ever want such pieces of garbage. 

“The last one, I hope,” Bea said, with a sad smile as she looked down at the sketch. It was good, and she knew it. Those curved lips, bright inviting eyes, that mole. Each detail filled her heart, creating a dull ache there while also bringing the warmth of her memories to the surface.

“Hmm,” Debbie said, going over to the fridge. “I like them.”

The teen still hadn't gone into the details of what Allie had said to her that night when they'd bumped into each other, but after that night the teen had gone back to being that sweet, focused girl that Bea had always known. Of course they had there differences still, and Debbie was down on any of the days she had to talk to the lawyer about Harry, but she hadn't been lying and sneaking around anymore or failing any exams. Soon the talks with the lawyer wouldn't even need to continue, because they'd found someone else to attest to Harry's abuse. That former friend he'd scared away all those years ago.

After making herself a bowl of cereal, something they both did more often without Harry around demanding a hardy breakfast, Debbie sat down across from her mother. “You have lunch with Brian today, right?”

“Mhmm,” Bea said with a nod. She was nervous about seeing the man after years of not seeing him. They were never friends, he was just one of Harry's mates that actually talked to her sometimes, helped her when she'd made a mess in the kitchen once. Pleasantries never took away from the fact that she knew that he knew about Harry's abuse and did nothing. Apparently, he'd done enough to get himself in a fight with Harry and he was planning to do more. Years after the fact. “Michelle took my only clients for the day.” Which only averaged around two to three max, since she was in charge of way more things in the shop. “Charlotte is always mooning over the fact that Michelle's showing now, which she loves,” Bea said, rolling her eyes. 

“Well, she does seem like the type of woman who'd actually enjoy the attention of everyone wanting to touch her stomach,” Debbie said, and Bea smiled at the much nicer way Debbie talked about the woman while obviously still not caring for her. It was true anyways, about Michelle. “You should hang that one up,” the teen said, pointing at the sketch with the end of her spoon. 

“Maybe I will,” Bea said. It was hard for her though, seeing Allie, thinking of her but not having her around. Such a short amount of time with someone, and yet so much of it had changed who Bea was and opened up the doors to the life she lived, once the chaos had settled. Knowing that she could be loved, and that she meant something to someone had given her what she needed though, to stand on her own. She often wondered if Allie felt the same. 

She dropped Debbie off at school and stopped into the shop anyways, telling the women to hush when they teased her about being a bit obsessive. Going over the books was not obsessive, it was responsible, she told them. They reminded her that she often had the same excuse when she stopped by, just because she happened to be in the neighborhood. By the time she was walking out the front door they were all dropping the act and wishing her luck with the process. She wanted to slap them sometimes for how they'd treated her because they couldn't understand the why's of how long she'd stayed with Harry, but she understood women who hadn't been abused sometimes had a hard time getting what it felt like. Showing support after the fact was all that she could hope for now, it was all over, and without Jo there to gossip and start trouble, without Allie, things had gotten pretty quiet. 

The restaurant that Brian asked for them to meet at was also quiet. Most of the people that were there were wearing clothes that made her feel a bit too casual. Fortunately Brian himself was just in a button down and slacks. Nice as they were, at least he wasn't wearing a nice jacket.

“Bea, it's good to see you,” he said, shaking her hand across the table.

His hair was a salt and pepper color she didn't remember him having, and he'd lost a few pounds, but the man had a timid smile that he'd use to send her way the times they spoke. It had made her uncomfortable, it was so unlike Harry, and typically she'd have the two men's gazes to compare directly when Brian was around more. Uncomfortable and all, Brian had given her a faint hope back then that someone would care enough to help her. Then he'd disappeared. 

“Thanks for meeting me,” she said, with a tight lipped smile. His head was a bit moist, so she rubbed it off on her pants. “Debbie and I really appreciate you helping us with this.”

“I should have done so years ago,” he said. “I'm really sorry that I didn't back then when I was around. Harry just.” He unfolded his napkin, silver clinking together and the cloth unrolled. “He scared the shit out of me to be honest.”

Bea knew all about how scary Harry had been. If she had been bigger, and stronger she couldn't imagine being half as intimidated. So many times she'd wished that she'd just had the strength to defend herself, the literal physical strength. Brian could have at least provided a challenge, she thought. 

“What happened?” she asked. Their waiter brought them over glasses and filled them with water. She took a large drink from it, waiting for his answer. 

“I finally confronted him. Told him it wasn't okay, what he was doing to you,” he said, hands gesturing. “He went fucking crazy.” One of the few couples near them turned to look and he cleared his throat. “I'm embarrassed to admit it, but he beat the shit out of me,” he said, with a bitter laugh. “Threatened to come after me and my family if I said a word to anyone, and that was that.”

“I understand,” Bea said. That was how people like Harry won. Fear. She knew all about wanting to protect someone from Harry's wrath, doing what you had to do to keep them safe, and not because of Debbie. “Hopefully we can make sure he doesn't hurt us or anyone else we care about ever again.”

Brian tapped his water glass with hers, then picked up his menu off the table. “Order anything you want,” he said. “This conversation will be easier to get through with a bit of good food, I'm sure. Do you still make that fantastic pink sauce? I've tried and tried...”

As the man went on and on, Bea looked at him curiously. She'd honestly only planned to get a small salad and make the conversation as short and direct as possible. It was practically over if you asked her. He'd helped her in the kitchen that one time, so she knew he enjoyed cooking, but that was all irrelevant to her then and especially with all that had happened. Brain was helping them, however, so she picked up the menu and looked it over, responding pleasantly and often enough. 

They talked about him changing companies, what their children had been up to, even laughed a bit at some of the faces Harry used to make when he was mad. With the man being in jail for at least a few years, they hoped, it was easy to laugh at him. Bea hadn't had anyone to really talk to about it other than Debbie, no one that really knew Harry anyways. The women at the shop had questions, and tried to show an interest in her life but she didn't have much of an interest in talking about that part of it. Still, it felt good to do so. Brian began to apologize over and over for not doing something sooner, and was going fine until Brian reached and touched her hand across the table. She pulled it back slowly, awkwardly shifting her eyes. 

“Wine?” he asked, with an awkward cough. 

“No,” she said simply. 

That had been part of her plan when she was still trying to figure out a way for her and Allie to be together. She'd never been much of a drinker anyways, and Harry's being an alcoholic always irked her, so she'd figured it would be easy to do right by Allie and help ease the process of being sober. Of course, none of her plans had actually worked out. Go figure. Things were still much better, however, and that's all that she had wanted for so long. 

After they ordered, Brian sat back in his chair. “I went to see him, after I heard what had happened.” 

Harry had made bail but gotten arrested again for showing up in the parking lot at Bea's shop one night. It wasn't surprising to her that he had come to threaten her once he'd gotten out, she'd expected it. What he didn't expect was for her to still stand her ground and to have him thrown back in jail for violating the restraining order she'd gotten into place upon his release, as they waited for a court date to be set. 

“He accused me of trying to steal you away back then, of caring too much.”

Bea felt like he'd cared very little, and this conversation was taking a turn she hadn't anticipated when he said he wanted to meet her there. 

“Said it'd be easier now that you'd settle for anyone and everyone. The last being a, to put it way nicer than he did, a street worker with a drug problem.”

She couldn't believe it.

“How's your wife?” Bea asked, pointedly. 

“We're divorced,” Brian answered quickly. “Jenny and I have had joint custody of the children for years now, it was for the best.” He toyed with his napkin again, flipping it's corners. “It's none of my business, and I know Harry's a liar anyways. You were always so – and Debbie was your world, which meant that you'd never.....This is not a good time for this, is it?”

For what? Bea wanted to ask, her confused expression making the man uncomfortable. When she realized what the man was getting at and what he expected, she literally laughed. She thought about the people who'd suggested she'd just been desperate to connect when that whole thing with Allie happened, including a therapist that she immediately stopped seeing. Was this what they meant? Any small ounce of compassion and small bit of effort to help and she'd be swooning? 

“It really isn't,” she said. “And honestly, I just need you as a witness not anything else. Not a friend, or whatever it is you'd thought would come out of telling me to meet you here. Please,” she said, getting up from the table. “Just show up for the court date and finally be helpful for once.” 

Having so much time before she had to pick up Debbie, Bea tried to go back to the shop to get some work done, but all the women kept bugging her about taking an actual day off then. Free of any other obligations than Debbie, she could actually sit and enjoy the day. That was something she was still getting used to. She decided to stop at a park, and got about half way through sketching a cute elderly couple before they slowly got up and struggled away together. Never could that have been her and Harry. He would have been bitching about how slow she was going, and something stupid like the sun being too bright one his age really started to get to him. She still couldn't believe how her lunch with Brian had turned out. The very idea of her even caring a single bit about another man seemed laughable, and not because of the sex as a whole, but because she couldn't see her falling for anyone really. Not again. Not for a long time. 

It was hard to keep her mind from imagining what it could be like if Allie were with her. Would she have gone to the lunch, or would Bea have called her right after and laughed hysterically at the man's idiocy. Maybe Allie would have met her at the park, sat down close beside her and watched Bea's pencil move, complimenting her skills while making fun of her ever sappy subject matters. They were quite gross in that department, she'd agree. Not what one would probably expect to find in the sketch book of someone going through a divorce after years of a loveless marriage. If they spent enough time with her though, according to her daughter, they'd see that Bea got this look on her face every once in a while. A fond, but sad smile would spread across her face like she was a million light years away, somewhere beautiful and yet painful to revisit. 

The sketch from that morning, of Allie, it had to be the last one. She had to stop thinking she'd see the blonde walk through the shop doors, or that she'd get any phone call, especially since she'd had to change her number thanks to Harry. That had been hard to do when she'd still been holding onto so much hope. Her plan may have fallen apart, but what had happened had left even more doors open. Or so she'd thought. With Jo gone, there was no way to ask if Derek knew anything, not that she would have found it easy to talk to the woman without wanting to hurt her. 

She pulled her phone out of her bag, and checked the time. Debbie would be calling her any moment to tell her she was ready, so she started to pack up. Her phone went off just as she stowed her favorite pencil away, it was getting pretty short. 

“About to head your way now,” she said, struggling to hold the phone with her shoulder and ear. “Stopped by the park for a bit and there was this lovely--”

“That's great, Mum,” Debbie interrupted. “I'm sure the sketch turned out wonderful.”

“Way to prove I'm predictable,” Bea mumbled. 

There was the sound of another voice in the background for a split second before Debbie kept on. “Uh, so, I kind of found a ride home. If that's alright.”

They'd come to an agreement that any time Debbie spent with friends or classmates had to be discussed way beforehand. With all the lies that the teen had been telling about what she was doing, and where all those months before, they'd both thought it was best that she purely focus on getting caught up in school. Of course she still saw friends, but most of the studying and hanging out happened at their new place to help ease Bea back into trusting her, and Debbie was extremely agreeable with the terms of her 'punishment'. Which was why a call like the one she was getting wasn't exactly well received. 

“Kind of is a bit vague, Debbie,” she said, starting to walk back to her car. “Who are you with?”

More voices, and this time Bea could tell that Debbie was covering the phone to have a quick conversation with whomever she was with. “No one, really. Just someone who needs some help with an assignment.”

Bea frowned, picking up her speed. “This is sounding a lot like a lie.” As if her day hadn't been weird enough with Brian hitting on her during a lunch they were meant to just discuss her abusive, hopefully soon to be ex-husband. Now Debbie going against their agreement. “You know the rules, Debbie. I have to meet your friends, and know the address of where they stay, if their parents are going to be home, all of that,” she said, as she unlocked her door and got in. “I'm coming to get you.”

“No,” Debbie said loud enough that Bea had to take the phone away from her ear. “I'll meet you at home.”

“Debbie,” Bea said, her tone giving a warning. “I'll come get you.”

“If you go up to the school I will not be there,” Debbie said, matter of factually. “Just meet me at the house.” She must have moved the phone away from her mouth because her last words were quiet, but Bea could hear Debbie complaining about something being ridiculous before hanging up. 

“Hello?” Bea said, her phone chirping to let her know the call ended. “Son of a, I'm going to ground her for life,” she said to herself, navigating home. There was a bit of traffic to her annoyance but she got home pretty quickly, dialing Debbie's number repeatedly as she pulled into the driveway. No answer. Bea parked her car in the drive-way instead of the garage. She walked up the small front steps, phone still pressed between her shoulder and ear. “You better be inside,” she said, leaving a voicemail as she put her key into the front door. 

Just whens she moved to step inside, she heard a car pull up behind her and turned angrily towards it. Debbie was getting out, talking very quickly to the person driving the car. 

“Debbie,” Bea called. “Come inside, right now,” she said. “Tell whoever that is today isn't--”

“Get out of the car,” she heard Debbie say, sounding just as frustrated as she did, which did not make Bea any less angry. 

“What the hell is going on?” Bea asked.

The teen just walked up to her, driver getting out with a gray hoodie hiding their face. “Calm down, already. I'm not screwing things up again. I'm making it right, actually.”

Bea was about to question the girl but her eyes went back to the person who was driving the car. Strands of blonde hair stuck out from behind the hood, and seeing them made all of what Bea was about to say vanish from her mind. She looked back to Debbie with a confused look, and the teen was smiling at her, shaking her head before she walked inside. 

“Where are you going?” Bea asked, her voice coming out a little panicked. 

“I don't need to be here for this,” Debbie said, walking inside and closing the door behind her. 

Bea stared at it for a few seconds before she turned around. She felt lightheaded, and like maybe she had actually fallen asleep on that bench and staring at that old couple had made her dreams cruelly turn in this direction. Allie pulled the hood of her hoodie back, looking up at Bea like she had so many times at the shop. 

“Hey, Bea,” Allie said, putting her hands into her pocket. Her hair was a bit longer, and less blonde than the last time they'd seen each other, but there were no bags under her eyes or bruises or cuts on lip. The blue eyes that Bea had been dreaming of were clear and focused. “Sorry to just show up like this. I told Debbie that you wouldn't really want to, you know, see me.”

“Of course I'd want to see you,” Bea said, walking down the steps. She struggled to stop herself from reaching out, mind still unsure of whether the blonde could actually be there. Things had gone they way they'd gone. Passing weeks had taught her to love the silence and solitude she had, and to understand that that was better than she could have imagined years before. “You look good.”

“Sober, you mean,” Allie said, with a smile. 

It wasn't quite the cocky smirk, but Bea could see it lurking underneath. “That too,” Bea said. One of her neighbors pulled into their driveway, waving at Bea as they got their family out of the car. “Come in,” Bea said, gesturing for Allie to follow her. She was tried to calm herself as she led Allie into the kitchen. “Want anything to drink? We have water, and some sort of sugary punch crap that Debbie likes.”

“That sounds perfect,” Allie said. “Mind if I sit?” she asked, already pulling out a chair. 

“Please,” Bea said. Every time she came home she removed her sketchbook, pencils, and a few other items out of her bag before hanging it up on rack near the kitchen entrance. She went ahead and went through that routine, hoping it would help ease the tension she felt. The instant she made the mistake of glancing over at Allie she felt her cheeks flush, catching the blonde watching her. Not that she was trying to hide it. “One moment.”

“Take your time,” the blonde said. “This is a nice place.”

She hung up her bag and went over to the cabinet with the glasses in it. “We were lucky. One of my coworkers knew someone who needed to move suddenly, and it so happened, so did I.” Her hands were shaking, she realized as she got the pitcher punch out of the refrigerator. “They even left most of their furniture. It's a rental, but that's better than I've ever gotten for myself.”

“I hear you on that. Just got a place myself. It's shitty as hell compared to this place, but you gotta start somewhere.”

Bea picked up both of the glasses. “That's what they say.” She turned around and nearly dropped them both. Allie was looking at her sketchbook, slowly turning one of the pages. Then another. Bea tried not to think of the time Harry had found something she'd drawn, but Debbie was the only other person she'd ever let see her work, and he'd always been so hurtful. Allie could think she was just some obsessive weirdo.

“Debbie told me that you've been drawing a lot,” Allie said, continuing to turn through the pages. Bea walked up and could see it was one of her earlier ones of Debbie, back when she'd just gotten back into the habit. But if she kept turning the pages...

She heard the blonde gasp, her fingers freezing on the corner of the page. Bea set down the glass of red punch beside Allie and continued to stand over the blonde, unable to see her face. Bea was afraid to see her reaction, whether that gasp was one of shock and awe, or humiliation. Allie's hand moved from the corner of the page, digits tracing along the edges of the sketch. The curve of her cheeks and chin. Bea had worked hard to get it right, but an artist always felt so critical of themselves. Nothing was every good enough. She felt that especially in then, with Allie there in the flesh. 

Bea's hand hovered above Allie's shoulder, blonde strands tickling the tips of her fingers. That softness that she'd craved to run them through called out to her, but she felt so unsure. She started to pull back when Allie turned the pages a few more times, revealing that most of the sketches were actually of her. Bea didn't expect to hear sounds of the blonde getting chocked up, but it was enough to shock some sense into her and let her hand fall to Allie's hair, and neck.

The blonde pressed herself into Bea's touch, turning her head. “Fuck, I'm sorry,” she said, a tear drop dampening the page she was looking at. Her attempts to rub it away only made it worse, of course, which Bea laughed at.

“It's alright, it'll dry,” Bea said, getting her to stop. Allie turned to her with eyes filled with watery, question filled eyes, and suddenly her arms were wrapped around Bea's waist. Bea put the other glass down and put her arms around Allie's head, placing her cheek on top of it. 

“Not just for that,” the blonde said. “I thought after everything had calmed down there'd be no way you'd want me around.”

“Allie.” Bea put her hands on either side of Allie's head, making the blonde look up at her. “You've been the one thing missing.” She pushed some of the hair out of Allie's face, and gave into her need to kiss the other woman. Every morning, and night that's all she had thought lying in bed by herself. It would all be so perfect, everything, if the blonde had been by her side. Divorce drama and all, nothing could have taken away from all the good in her life because she finally knew that she was ready to be free of her dark, lonely past. Yet there she'd been, alone and yearning each time she lie in bed. 

The blonde stood up, hands moving to Bea's back bringing them closer together. Bea's hands stayed where they were, holding Allie's lips to hers and letting herself drown in them. This time she wouldn't let go. 

////////////////////////

Bea could hear the shower already running when she walked into their bedroom. She'd been a few minutes late getting back from stopping at the shop one last time on her day off, an excuse her daughter wouldn't appreciate if she and Allie were late. The bathroom door was unlocked. She opened the door slightly, and listened to the sound of the water hitting Allie's skin, letting her mind create an image of it cascading down her body. Being squeezed from her long blonde hair. 

She walked all the way into the bathroom, closing the door behind her to keep the heat of the steam within. Allie was humming a song she didn't recognize, nothing new. Bea almost laughed when the hum turned into a some sort of beat boxing, but she held it in, pulling her shirt over head as she crept closer to the shower. She removed the rest of her clothes and stood there for a moment longer. Just the idea o f Allie's naked form on the other side of the curtain caused her to throb with desire, but the image in her mind could never prepare her for the sight of her curved back as she stepped in.

Many months had passed since the blonde had come back into her life. They'd barely been apart from one another, and after so many nights of Allie waking up at Bea's they'd agreed it was better for the blonde to move in. Debbie had agreed, pointing out that their initial attempt to hide that they were sleeping together again was an embarrassment and not necessary, or believable anyways. 

“Are we really going to do this again?” Allie asked. She glanced back over her shoulder with a soapy towel in hand, and a knowing grin on his face. 

Bea's eyes traveled to the Allie's firm, round butt, and shapely thighs. She walked forward and placed her hands on Allie's shoulder blades. “Do what?” One of her hands moved to grip Allie's hip while the other swept some of Allie's hair aside. Her mouth hung open in anticipation of her lips meeting Allie's skin. 

“Be late and you pretend it's me that can't keep my hands to myself,” Allie answered, sounding amused. She finished squeezing out the towel in her hands and turned around.

Bea's hands hung in her air. Her bottom lip was pulled in between her lips, eyes trained on Allie's breasts. “Uh, usually it is you, so'” she said, always amazed that such a beautiful body was hers to touch. 

When her eyes finally met Allie's, the blonde laughed. “That's a yes, then.”

“Yes,” Bea said, getting rid of the small amount of space between them. Their kisses rarely started off delicate and slow anymore, and Bea didn't hesitate in running her hands up Allie's sides to take the blonde's breasts into her hands. She'd never thought she'd be so mesmerized by another human being, enjoy palming and massaging a woman's breast. For most of her life she hadn't ever done that to her own. 

Allie moaned against Bea's lips, pushing her chest against Bea's hands as they deepened their kiss. The blonde reached back and turned the water off just when Bea pulled a hand away from Allie's chest to move the shower curtain back. Neither one of them even pretended to try and dry off well, one of them even using their limited time as an excuse as they stumbled to the bed. Bea turned them so it was the back of Allie's knees against the bed, trailing kisses down the blonde's neck, while teasing and pulling on the younger woman's nipples. Allie's hands were moved from Bea's ass to her hair, and shoulders, her breathing ragged. 

Months before Bea's hands would have been unsure, and a bit aimless, but she'd learned just what to do to drive Allie up the walls. Sometimes literally. It was easy for her now. Understanding the desires she felt, and giving into them. She placed her hands on Allie's hips, getting her to sit on the bed and guiding her a little further up onto it. Bea looked down at the blonde, reveling in the way her grin was broken by excited pants. Never had she thought anyone would react to her in such a way, and or that she'd want them to. But seeing Allie's lidded dark eyes and her glorious body beneath her begging to be touched was more exhilarating than anything Bea had ever experienced. Well, almost. 

Bea grinned, running her hands along Allie's thighs. She listened to the way the blonde's breathing changed any time her hands seemed to be heading for towards the apex, but never quite getting there. 

“We don't have time for all this, Bea,” Allie said, propping herself up on her elbows. Bea just laughed it off because she knew Allie wasn't really all that concerned with the time. When Bea started to dip down unto her knees she proved it. “I take that back,” Allie said, slowly licking her lips. “We have all of the time.”

Bea laughed. They didn't have all of the time. “We won't need it,” she said. 

This wouldn't be like the first time Bea had done this, and she'd stared for so long that Allie had tried to convince her she didn't have to do it just then. Bea wouldn't stop a lot to ask stupid questions like, is that okay, instead of trusting the sounds that Allie made and her twitchy movements as good indication. She kissed the inside of the blonde's thighs, sucking on the skin there as one of her hands moved to Allie's hip, and the other one moved back to one of her stiff, pink nipples. 

When Bea began to trail her tongue towards her glistening core, Allie reached down and pushed some of Bea's hair back so she could watch it begin. She wasn't kidding about having a thing for watching, as it turned out. Whether it was moments like the the one they were currently having, or a bit of solo play, which Bea had grown much more comfortable with after the first time she watched Allie get herself off. She looked up at the blonde, lips pulling back into a smirk and then finally placed her mouth where Allie wanted it. Bea dipped her tongue between moist lips, the taste of Allie's wetness making her hum in delight. The hand she'd placed on Allie's hip moved to grip the blonde's ass, as she began to lick and suck, until Allie fell back moaning and writhing. 

Bea knew that when she looked up the curved expanse of Allie's stomach she'd see the blonde massaging her other breast, mouth hanging open and head thrashing. And she expected Allie to then place that hand on hers, aiding Bea in massaging it before pulling Bea's hand up to her mouth and sucking two fingers into her it. That would never cease to be sexy, Bea was sure. She didn't have to guess what the blonde wanted and before long Allie's fingers were digging into her scalp as Bea's fingers curved inside of the blonde, her lips sucking as her tongue tapped and swirled around the other woman's swollen bud. Allie's movements grew erratic, her back arching off the bed. Bea could hear Allie's breath get caught in her chest, and feel the walls tightening around her fingers rapidly. Then the short jerking of her hips stopped, and she just pushed herself against Bea again and again, moans increasing and growing higher in pitch before she finally came apart. Bea moved her hand back to Allie's hip then, holding her down as she ran her tongue along Allie's sensitive core until Allie was pulling her up into a slow, wet kiss. 

The blonde sat up, making Bea rise to keep their mouths connected. She was still twitching and panting beneath Bea's touch, but it didn't stop her from pulling Bea down to straddle her lap. Her hands gripped and squeezed Bea's thighs, as she pushed her tongue further into Bea's mouth, taking control of the kiss. Bea's chest ached for oxygen by the time that Allie pulled away, immediately moving to Bea's neck. Bea was quickly getting lost in the sensations of the other woman kissing her, and the hands running up and down her thighs, then one moved up to kneed her breasts firmly. The lips on her neck started to move lower, and Allie placed a hand on Bea's back so the older woman could lean back, and took one of Bea's nipples into her mouth, her teeth and tongue clouding Bea's mind even further. Bea couldn't resist rolling her hips against Allie after a small bite, followed by a soothing tongue. The blonde moaned when Bea's heat slid across her and moved her mouth back to Bea's, their kiss fast and desperate. Suddenly there was a hand between her legs, fingers sliding against her and then into her. 

Bea wrapped an arm around Allie's neck, the other gripping the blonde's shoulder as her thighs began to burn, knees pressing into the mattress. She pulled back from their kiss, chest heaving. Allie grinned up at her and then looked down in between them, nodding for Bea to do the same. Bea was more focused on the pulsing warmth spreading through her body instead, and the fact that someone so beautiful wanted to bring her to such a point of ecstasy. Just when she thought she wouldn't be able to push through the burn of her thighs Allie's arm pulled her close and she turned them over, sliding them both higher on the bed. Bea moaned the blonde's name as she shallow strokes then grew longer, and deeper, then harder until she was coming, body shaking with pleasure.

When she opened her eyes Allie was still grinning at her, watching her as she tried to catch her breath and still her twitching form. They both laughed at their eagerness leading them to where they were, tangled up in one another for the billionth time. 

“I love you,” Bea said, looking up into those blue eyes. 

Allie's grin turned into a genuine smile. She placed a finger under Bea's chin, and kissed her. “I love you too,” she whispered. “And...Your phone has been going off for at least five minutes now,” Allie said, the sounds of it vibrating no longer having to compete to be heard. 

“Shit.” Bea fought against the pooling relaxation she felt edging through her. She gave Allie a chaste kiss and sat up. “So, about that shower.”

They showered and got dressed quickly, Bea wearing a form fitting black pants suit while Allie went with a more casual skirt and top. If Bea had had anything more casual but still dressy she would have gone that route, but there was no time to go shopping again, and jeans were out of the question. By the time that they made it they weren't late exactly, they just had to park super far away which is what actually put them at risk of being late. That was Bea's story and she was sticking to it. Her daughter was graduating that day, and she couldn't have been more proud, relieved, and excited about what future lay ahead. 

Over the past months they had all managed to get into a nice routine with one another. Allie had gotten a job at the market near the shop, which had eventually called Bea about her application, but it was at the height of trying to get divorced from Harry. She and Allie went there so often, however, that they offered Allie a job when hiring season rolled back around. That made it easier for them when the blonde moved in and Debbie needed to use one of the cars to go to class when Bea had to get to the shop super early. That had only happened after Allie convinced Bea it was a good idea for the teen to start taking herself, with her moving out into the world on her own soon. A few weeks after that Allie and Bea celebrated the one year anniversary of Allie's sobriety with an ice-cream outing, and dinner, in that order, followed by screwing on multiple surfaces in the house. They'd done the same when Bea's divorce went through. With Debbie moving out, Bea imagined those kind of celebrations happening more often than they already did.

She and Allie made it past the rows of parents and siblings, a few of them giving disapproving looks as they made their way through hand and hand, Allie so close you'd think she was afraid of being separated but her cheeky smile said otherwise. So did the middle finger she held up when one couple in particular looked rather disgusted. Bea laughed while pulling Allie along and telling her to leave it. Not a single one of the non-pleasant stares made a difference to her, and the supportive ones didn't matter much either at the moment. 

“They're starting,” Bea said, getting them to their seats. She pulled one of Allie's hands into her lap, holding it affectionately. Memories of the three of them laughing and talking over dinner, going out to the movies as a family, or Allie and Debbie showing up at the shop to get her to come home filled her mind. Soon the teen wouldn't be there, and Bea still wasn't sure how she felt about that.

By the time the ceremony was done she'd gone through most of the tissues that Allie knew to bring just in case she started crying. They both knew she would but she liked that Allie at least pretended like she hadn't been a blubbering fool for the past week when talking about Debbie's graduating. They searched through the swarm of freshly graduated teens, and squealed in delight when Debbie spotted them and raised her diploma for them to see. She handed it to her mum and then stood on her tip-toes to wrap her arms around the both of them. 

“You were late,” Debbie said, pulling back with a smile on her face. 

“We weren't,” Bea defended. 

Allie laughed, linking her arm with Bea's and staring down at the diploma with her. “Almost though,” she admitted. Bea swatted at her and she pretended to be offended. 

Debbie rolled her eyes. “Come on you two,” she said. “Please tell me you at least got a decent parking spot.”

The two women looked at each other, Bea blushing and Allie smiling as she spoke. “Well, we were almost late so...” 

“You two are gross. I cannot believe that you were almost late to my graduation.” She didn't sound remotely upset, which Bea was actually really happy about because she did feel a little bit bad about having to park so far away, and almost missing the opening, albeit boring, speech. 

“Oh hey, this is what you wanted when you got us back together,” Allie said, poking the girl in the shoulder. “All the grossness is included, you're old enough to understand that.”

Debbie groaned. “What I wanted was to have my mom stop mooning over sketches, and getting that dreamy look in her eyes whenever she thought of you.”

Bea looked between the two of them, smiling at their banter. She and Debbie had gone through so much together, the years with Harry putting a dark shadow over so a lot of it. But the past year had been so amazing. Debbie had gotten caught up in school and turned her act around, ditching the boy she'd grown attached to forever, to Bea's absolute relief. Then there was the whole tracking Allie down to reunite the two of them. She could remember coming home and hearing Debbie and Allie laughing at the kitchen table about shows they were both into, how idiotic teenagers can be, and music videos that Bea knew nothing about. Whenever herself and Debbie got into any kind of weird place, Allie was there to help them through, and Bea could see how much that meant to Debbie. She felt honored to have raised such a wonderful and caring daughter in such harsh situations, and she also felt privileged to have someone like Allie in their life. 

“What I didn't want,” Debbie began, continuing her faux argument. “Was to be traumatized by the two of you getting it on like a bunch of teenagers all the time.”

Allie looked to her, head practically on Bea's shoulder as they walked. “See,” she said, with a mischievous grin. “You are loud.”

Bea's eyes widened. “Stop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty folks. That's it, in all it's glory (I hope). Again, thank you so, so much. Someone suggested I write this from Allie's perspective which has now been plaguing my mind, but I think if I do another Wentworth fic it won't be AU. Probably. Hmm. Cheers! <3<3<3


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